Memory is awakening, I told you.
\nRemember
\nRemember me.
\nWhen I saw you wearing it tight
\nfreshly dug
\nTo become one with it, like
\nA new destiny
\nAll my days fought
\nWith the Impossible, and you
\nWere standing sacred
\nOn the ever flowing Heaven\u2019s
\nSide
\nThat is how, they say, soul unfolds
\nThe ancient charriot
\nAnd through irises and mountain harebells
\nThrough white sea breezes
\nOf another world
\nTook you where the vows of those who love
\nBecome angels
\nand the water speaks
\nwater like pearls, stand up high,
\non mountains older than Time itself.
\nRemember me!<\/p>\n
Christmas 2019
\nOf the first Eucharist<\/p>\n
I wrote: “Poetry has always been for me the raw material of my books, the metaphysical element of my vision. I had written this in Paths of my Angel, which were pages of diaries that I have kept for a lifetime. And I had even written that “poetry is the primordial material of lost memory, or else, the treading of the soul in the abyss”. Half a century later, I mean the same thing. And more: \u201cWe are creatures incomplete, creatures, of deprivation. Our desire to transcend is deprivation, or else the pain for our incomplete self. “<\/p>\n