The Last Thoughts
written by: Vasile Trif
Rungs organize themselves
in a spiral just like
Jacob’s ladder, endless
as evening fell
as morning dawned
it happened so often
that on a Sunday I woke up
holding a living book
it occurred to me
that I could make some changes
for example, to connect the dots
as close to the center as possible
to unite in pairs unfulfilled and lonely words
to take back my harsh words
to incinerate them
and grind up their bones
so they wouldn’t tread miserably and barefoot on anyone’s soul
to visit those I didn’t say goodbye to
it’s true that I still think of them
and welcome them to evening prayer
and in the morning I see myself enjoying a good cup of coffee with them
but suddenly
an angel leaning on his wing
informed me that it is not written in the language of men
that I cannot change anything
since today is Sunday
and every shop it is closed
I consoled myself with this
perhaps, at least these last thoughts
God finds them
and will throw them as seeds of grass
into her round white hollows
ART:
The Descent, 2023, mixed media on paper, 9,65 X 7,68 po
- The Light’s Dialysis - November 29, 2024
- The Seeds - September 2, 2024
- Butterfly Hunt - June 24, 2024
