Antonio Justel Rodriguez


... cloisters and accustoms the sadness of the soul, its opacity, the pure suffering,
Well, joy comes and calls and I am receiving it with my forehead trembling,
as if suddenly the body was strange and an ominous inertia
I would have forever avoided the unforeseen irruption of beautiful events; is, thus, that joy almost hurts when it presses against the skin of the chest to make itself felt,
to be recognized and assumed, and, in this way, open, inhale its song and be able to pronounce it;
...and there are, there are so few drops of living dew
that appear and flourish in the ardinal in which sometimes I am and we are,
that, in this moment, I take them and carefully put them through the cracks of being,
not so that they grow, no, but so that they do not die;
…with amazement I look into myself,
and everything seems to revert to this brief moment in which I remain still,
very still and listening,
as if the slight glow that is arriving was in danger, and, quickly,
against a devious sea of infinite darkness,
I had to marshal my strength to believe it in myself, and, immediately,
- in the face of terror or fear, thundering with blood -
love him to the point of torture and defend him.
Antonio Justel/Orion of Panthoseas

All rights belong to its author. It was published on by demand of Antonio Justel Rodriguez.
Published on on 12/05/2023.


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