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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,