BLOOMING EYES

At a certain point along the path,
I heard what the landscape had long been trying to tell me,
and that voice felt familiar—so close—
it placed me in a state of stillness.

Shedding what was unnecessary,
the wind took charge of erasing my thoughts,
while my tears expressed what I felt.
Through blooming eyes, I could see
the infinite shapes of nature.

Behind me, my footsteps faded with the passing clouds,
and ahead—empty of memory and of senses—
with curiosity and my heart uncovered,
I observed, with a first gaze,
a new place made of language, of invisible sentences.

Abraham Votroba