I counted my years and discovered that I have
less time to live going forward than I have lived until now.
I have more past than future.
I feel like the boy who received a bowl of candies.
The first ones, he ate ungracious,
but when he realized there were only a few left,
he began to taste them deeply.
I do not have time to deal with mediocrity.
I do not want to be in meetings where parade inflamed egos.
I am bothered by the envious, who seek to discredit
the most able, to usurp their places,
coveting their seats, talent, achievements and luck.
I do not have time for endless conversations,
useless to discuss about the lives of others
who are not part of mine.
I do not have time to manage sensitivities of people
who despite their chronological age, are immature.
I cannot stand the result that generates
from those struggling for power.
People do not discuss content, only the labels.
My time has become scarce to discuss labels,
I want the essence, my soul is in a hurry…
Not many candies in the bowl…
I want to live close to human people,
very human, who laugh over their own stumbles,
and away from those turned smug and overconfident
with their triumphs,
away from those filled with self-importance,
Who do not run away from their responsibilities ..
Who defends human dignity.
And who only want to walk on the side of truth
The essential is what makes
I want to surround myself with people,
who know how to touch the hearts of people ….
People to whom the hard knocks of life,
taught them to grow with softness in their soul.
Yes …. I am in a hurry … to live with intensity,
that only maturity can bring.
I intend not to waste any part of the goodies
I have left …
I’m sure they will be more exquisite,
than most of which so far I’ve eaten.
My goal is to arrive to the end satisfied and in peace
with my loved ones and my conscience.
I hope that your goal is the same,
because either way you will get there too …
~~ Mario de Andrade ~~
If I were to die
It would be with the reflection of the mountains in my eyes
I would die with sun-pink cheeks
And a mouth full of blackberries
I want to die while my heart is still a greenhouse for hope
All my wild dreams as seedlings in egg cartons
Reaching toward the window
I cannot die yellow and hungry
I will not die in sterile air
But I would like to die
While the fireflies are still glowing
Morse coding their poetry for a cynical earth
I would like to die like Joan of Arc
With dignity and urgency and stubbornness
As a watercolor portrait in the night
A sight to behold, a hero in flames
~~ Nightbirde ~~
Hites Cove Trail along Hwy. 140 on the way to Yosemite.