Walk

Walk


The world is a mountain of concrete fogs.
We see perfectly the angles, lines, volumes, colors;
we hardly do not find images sense.
But we philosophize.
"Geometrize".
We count the world miseries.
Poeticize the world ineffability’s.
We say the unspeakable.
Only we do not understand each other.
So, we turn round on ourselves.
The soul, invisible mirror,
returns to us the glance.
With the same ignorant purity with which we look at it,
looks at us.
Like if we had not been one.
Yes, we do not understand each other.
But we go.
God's militias do not feel pity for our ignorance,
of our rude curiosity,
and they say to us:
Walk, walk!
And we walk.