I wish I could talk about the moon

And the birds and the blossoming flowers.

Now that springtime is arriving

It would be logical and coherent.

But I often lack logic or coherence

So I would rather speak about

The clouds I can see

In the cloudless sky,

And the mist that floods my heart

Infecting my soul,

And the fog that invades my eyes

Preventing me from seeing clearly.

I try to focus

In vain

Unsuccessfully,

Asking for help

From the brightening sun,

Trying to absorb its energy

To reinvigorate myself

With discernment and belief.

But I fail to see the light ahead

And get lost in the way

While I hope and quit hoping

Over and over again.

Maio de 2016