How We Move From Dead Spaces To Limitless Freedom
Its texture is not smooth. Here and there
some holes that look like little windows;
dovecotes to the flora sprouting from the wall.
Ask me how they managed to grow roots
in a piece of concrete, to make their existence
a fact out of dead slits.
And can we too grow
out of the dead spaces in our lives?
Indeed there are some spaces which I don’t know
if they too are moulded by industrial materials
and once placed there
will move no more.
Only wear and tear will give them some character
and perhaps a hope for the grace of beauty.
One vine from the ground
and a bunch of surrendering ferns
conspire to hug it with life.
And life itself is what matters.
Even if the slits won’t give birth to spring flowers
and the bursting leaves are only
stray weeds.
This wall, splitting here and there,
me and you,
might be necessary,
though perhaps it’s not needed at all.
I have the impression that the life that takes over
doesn’t give a damn what the goal was
or the aspiration.
It doesn’t lay assumptions as
concrete foundations.
So what do you think,
do we give birth to dead spaces
at the point where we stopped
asking the questions?
And can it suffice
to let life
just take over?
The milky smoothness of our presence
a prophecy of sweet days,