The painting

 

I am here, alone

Sitting in the middle

Of a beautiful and peaceable painting,

nothing is moving.

I am looking at everything,

And looking at nothing,

An intruder breeze whispers at me,

Remember?

 

I was in another painting,

A vivid painting,

Something in there,

it suggested movements,

Laughs and noises  

Who was capable to capture that moment?

 

Everything was noise around us,

The bitter macaw was claiming her freedom,

The radio was playing an old and slow song,

As slow as my uncle steps,

And we were there

playing dominoes,

Arguing each gamming piece put on the table

What passion in each argument!

In other time, other civilization,

We could be philosophers on the grounds of the Lyceum.

 

Coming back to my peaceful painting

Where nothing is moving,

I realize that

Time is an inexorable strength

All of us, are under its power

Just a painting can stop the time

But not the kind of painting

which eternally hanging in a museum

It is the painting created by our senses,

With an infinity spectrum of colors, smells, and flavors.

 

I stopped the time that day,

Our last day together,

Nothing Special but forever impressed in my memory.

◄ Passion has came back

pyramids of salt ►

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