to Isel, on her birthday
Some believe or not,
Some have seen him or thought
Once upon a time, into hard hot summer days,
An autumn leaf grazed their shoulder
And never touched the ground.
A few have heard some steps by night.
A few have found the tree, the ancient tree
With a hole in its belly. Hidden secrets in a special language.
I did touch the toys: a little crystal ball,
A pair of nuts, some unknown seeds,
Headless dolls, a shining piece of mineral stone,
Halves of wrinkly paper sheets saying nonsense.
Nonsense means mystery, means truth,
Maybe Faith, perhaps Love,
Peace. Slander. Words of misunderstanding birds speak.
A mockingbird’s feather.
Nonsense means Life for a child.
(Madrid. May 18, 2004.)
© 2004 David Lago-Gonzalez