PERSEVERANCE

All my thoughts are a mixture

of swift disappointments

and endless efforts.

I stay away from work

more often than I go in.

Excuses make me feel ashamed,

but I pretend to be sick, just so I can be free

to stroll along the shoreline, boarding small boats

to go exploring.

The sea

is beautiful,

and my dreams

are invisible,

but my pen

is strong

and persistent.

I never give up

the flow of poems

aimed at waves

and wind.

Mind storms.

Verse hurricanes.

Stories about gnomes, nymphs,

and palaces of sunlight,

the tale of a man who keeps

a bluebird trapped within the cage

of his mind, even though the poor creature

yearns to be free, soaring alone in endless sky.

I write about verses brought to earth

by dark garzas, the graceful herons

that fly above me each time I go out

exploring.

I write about Chile’s changing seasons,

and Nicaragua’s tropical blossoms,

about every aspect of nature

and human nature,

then I add a fantasy

about the queen of fairies,

who travels in a pearl

pulled by golden beetles.

In this story of long ago,

there was a time when everyone

received a magical gift, either riches, strength,

eagle wings, harmony, rhythm, a rainbow,

sunlight, the melodies of stars,

or the music of jungles . . .

but humans envied each other’s gifts,

bickering and battling, so that now

all of us are always granted the same wish,

receiving only a peaceful blue veil of dreams

for the future—in other words, nothing

but hope.