This is part of an old project: illustrate my own words with pictures by me and by others. Initially, this and other poems and stories were inspired by a single image. That close connection between the words and those images still make sense. But the idea is to recreate and adopt new perspectives. This project contains old and new pieces of writing.
Until the Edge
There was a poppy
That was pretending to be alone.
Her way of being alone
Consisted only in looking always
In the same direction,
The same horizon,
The same portion of the infinite sky.
Among a thousand poppies,
The lonely poppy
Was training her red chalice wings to fly.
“Bluebirds fly
Birds fly over the rainbow” (she sang)
“Why then, oh why can’t I?”
Above the thousand poppies
The clouds were moving
But the untouchable blue remained.
And the lonely poppy kept singing
“Way up high
There’s a land that I heard of
Once in a lullaby”.
The thousand poppies were withering
In the blazing sun.
The red turned purple and fell on the ground.
Only one poppy remained.
The lonely poppy keeps singing
And training her red chalice wings:
“Skies are blue,
And the dreams that you dare to dream
Really do come true.”
In the summer fields no poppy remains.
The rarefied clouds came back.
Up above a red bird disappears over the edge
Of the same untouchable blue horizon…
São Ludovino, 29/9/2013 – 3:09 a.m.
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