24.3.09

OLD ARE THE RAGS




The silence is my only company,
In my old last days.
He hears me, he is there, but nothing says.
He is my silence, because lives in my house
like the tree that belongs to the farmer who
planted it in his farm for ever... and so...
even the birds belong to him
because they make theirs nests in his tree!

Oh, my God what a nice sound is that?
I do not believe!
My phone is ringing,
And my heart begins to beat
joyfully, thinking that...

Only God has the time to think about me.
He knows how alone and sad I am
In a home of so sad years
where I even live until He takes me in His Hands
close to His heart.

I picked the handle up and
Heard a voice I know well.
What a surprise. Thanks God.
It is not Your voice
but his Your help...
Hello? How are you dear Ma?

The tears rolled down her face with joy...
And could not speak...

2 comentários:

Fernanda Ferreira disse...

My dearest friend,

Tears are rolling down my face and there's a huge lump in my throat...YOUR POEM is unfortunately soooooo real and soooooo deep!!!
Thank God you exist, to remind us all that all are the rags.
Love you a lot.
Fernanda (Ná)

Mara disse...

Querida amiga,

Os teus comentários deixam-nos sempre felizes mesmo que sejam temas tristes.

I love you too very much,

Mara