The Bait of Certainty
Like the train echoes in a tunnel
struggling with perennial bronchitis and arthritis
yet still believing in a fate of rust and steel
and that voyages have as destination
the lighted station, the ruthless brake.
I follow the rails that, with entelechy,
lead to my heart. I obeyed key holders
and capped whistles knowing the result
of promised obedience leading to the right
on laughter and scolding. I exchanged the wind
with the dirt, I killed the embryo of surprise
for something deciduous desperately hoping
that the hopeless requires baits of certainty
to bite. I was wrong.
Go out, then, look at the immovable star
look at how the night covers it
with its sea of Erebus and
the respect of ebony for that imperceptible
motionlessness of light.
However, at some time,
yes, in fractions of eternity the motionless
will spring up from its fateful slumber
and with the blade of silent lightning,
it will rip the black belly
of grandmother certainty.
Libros Libertad 