Sometimes I get so tired. Closed doors, keys that do not open the closed doors, the anguish for not yet knowing how to open them. The will that weaves its nest in the most verdant branches and passes times hatching the eggs that seem that they will not break anymore. The waiting for the flight of the butterflies that take the pupas to get rid of the cocoons.

The repeated emergence of the ‘Not’ when our lives prepares restless banquets to welcome the ‘Yes.’ The ‘almost’ that goes on so long that it seems to be endless. And, lurking, always following the movements of our courage at a distance, the perilous perspective of the never, awaiting every breach created by the weariness to try to dissuade us from our purposes. Sometimes I get so tired …

But I have to keep strong, stronger than ever, because I cannot disappoint those who love me so deeply, whom encourage and believe in me. I have my purpose, my rules, even though the world falls apart, even though my legs cannot stand me, I know my destination.

So many things in our gypsy life… I disappear in the wind, I ride on the thunderbolt of Yansa, I turn around the world, I spin, I fly among the stars, I play to be one of them. I gather in the splendor of the nebulae, I rest in the valleys, mountains, I sleep in the forged sword of Ogun, I plunge into the heat of lava from volcanoes, Shango living body!

From the milk of my mother’s breast
Until the endless verses, prose, poems
That sprout from the poet in all poetry
Under the moonlight that lies on the palm of each and every inspiration
Sometimes I get tired, just sometimes…❤