LIGHTHOUSE KEEPER
As you stand, sometimes, in the middle of the glass
chamber, next to the lamp, fully lit by it, you feel
that you’re its flame that will never snuff out.
You often have these illusions, perhaps from the long
isolation, perhaps from the roar of the sea that gives you
vertigo as if the water pipes break all at once and
you try to repair one pipe while the water jets up from
every side, floods the house and you stop holding
a pair of pliers in your hand like one who holds the
broken helm of an invisible ship.
All these things of course could exist because of staying
in vigil for so long; to be able to do your job properly,
to be on your post on time, you always imagine
someone being in danger and you try to save him or
you’re in danger and you try to save yourself. Truly,
aren’t we all in danger every moment of our lives? For
this, I mentioned the word, illusions, yet I believe that
whatever we manage to do has its importance, reaches
farther than us, leads, walks as if irrelevant to us and
it often holds our hand, like a healthy, strong ephebe
holds his old father as he walks, smiling serenely,
beyond his blindness.
Libros Libertad 