Reading me

And now my dear

after a long night spent on the theatre of dreams together

while you tried to communicate to me what I don’t understand during the day

you’re again pulling at my arm

and letting me hear the fear in your thoughts

letting me step into it, feel it, until I can truly understand it

and weave it back in words for you, for myself

Coming to read me is on your mind all the time

You feel this impulse, this drive, this longing

And yet, you don’t do it, you can’t do it

for there is an element of terror in it

In those poems I wrote you are afraid

to lose yourself, to lose your right of existence

They are so intense, so truthful

they would immediately burn through the clouds

and only the flame of your heart would survive unscathed

and start shining as it is meant to

The clouds, the rigid matter, around your heart

offer a great resistance to that

they know their role is still not entirely accomplished yet

they know that by hiding your shine from mine

they are doing us a favour and pushing us to delve deeper into our flame

deeper into our love, until all their fear, all their resistance melts away

and they start being shaped by the purity of this light

But what scares you my dear then?

It is the thought that the future will be like the past

that for months, years, you will not dare to come read me

It is the thought nothing will change, and that your life will continue to unravel

filled with things that you don’t care about and tiresome obligations

while the hole in your heart remains and continues to be so painful

But my dear, we have made giant steps, and the present is not like the past

Even if you still show me your face as it was many light years ago

even if you’re still afraid of my old self

we have both profoundly changed under the surface

and what happened in the past, the suffering, the greyness

won’t happen again

We are discovering the true potency in our art, the love that flows

and binds and gives life and light

How can we go back to our old fearful, limited selves

when we are touching such an infinity, such a beauty

No, things are truly different now, they feel, smell, taste differently

Use your five senses, can you smell this perfume of flower in the air

Can you feel the world around you is changing, giving you the space you need

And most importantly, feel the poetry within the poetry you write

the beauty within the images you paint, and the closeness with me

And when you will dare to read me again

you will know, oh you will know, the past is over and the present ours