Light comes through the windows that I’ve shuttered
from the inside with these deep, dark curtains,
and from the outside,
with the wooden sign that the pharmacist discarded,
and threw away
and that children bombarded with the rocks that washed up yesterday
from the river that bears my name.
Yet light finds its way inside,
and attempts to brighten the world outside of me,
by sharpening the lines and angles,
and erasing the doubts
that darken my reality.
Do I have a flaw in my personality?
I don’t need light as I walk my daily route
through that tall, cumulus cloud that forms the shape of one dark hand.
I will rise above the land,
to tell you that I am the thought that pushes me and guides me,
“Hey, don’t listen to the fears that sabotage your will, my dear…”
No, you don’t know me,
I am the history we’ve made today.
I am the history we’re making.
And I say
that I know that knowledge,
and that pain and suffering
is as ephemeral as a smile that politely someone proffers
when they know that sadness has consumed your day.
I am the freezing rain,
Who are you that dares challenge me?
Will you feel the rage that flows through my blood?
Are you ready for my claws to rip your flesh?
Can you stand the iron grip that holds the pistol to your head?
From the corner of your eye,
you’ll see my eyes,
my eyes that smile and tell you,
I’m in the wind.
I am the light!
Resist your will to fight!
I’m not the enemy, dear one,
I’m your reflection…
C.2020, Francisco Bravo Cabrera, 16 OCT 2020, Valencia, Spain