Barão Reports –
The people
Half of them are
foreigners, showing off
a dream, a real
white sandy moon
in one hand, a
lint disguising golden attributes
in the other
Some are
passengers
moving along with
time
caressing faces
which
makes them
believe
they: becoming oranges
can inhale it for
a while
and forget their
birth
Then, there are
the
Trees.
Which are more
than
trees; they are
the soul of these
men. They are the
roots connecting
generations of
cultural identity
maps of human
geography.
They flourish and
fruit
the words of
their language
year after year
As words feeding in
my mind
continuously
asking to be spoken
or painted
white, watered, written;
I shut them down!
often it’s better
to let them rest
between the beat
of two thoughts
before
Trees, words, men
all cast together
under the same
sun
they are
like earth
waking
to read the wind above
its leaves.
© 2014, José Eduardo
Coelho
