Conducta Herbal

Not long ago
I heard about that greenhouse
Where a man studied
The herbal conduct.

He was my friend for a while
And I, unaware
Of the secrets of his trade
Didn't feel curious.

He spoke
Of substances that dilute
The distances between
Human mind and composition.

Of emotions that shape
The stages of flora
And that he had achieved
Communication.

Some time later
I would remember the greenhouse
Where a man studied
The herbal conduct.

I didn't see him for a while
And by the last encounter
I noticed something green
In the tone of his skin.

Worried
I asked about his health
And he, surprised, replied
That he had never felt better.

And immediately
He confided in me about his progress
With the flora and then
A certain extravagant perception.

In essence
He was working
With the essence of a plant
In pursuit of transmutation.

I didn't see him for a while
And by the next encounter
I noticed something green
In the tone of his skin.

As I didn't see him again
One afternoon I went to look for him
And after calling for a while
He came to open.

I saw his early green skin
And his hair a bush
Of tiny
Stems in April.

He gave me
A long and deep look
Then said
That he remembered me,
That he was busy
And asked for forgiveness
And then he closed the door
And I left.

I saw in his hand the green branch
And his hair
Were thin shoots
Moist from the green bush.

Not long ago
I heard about that greenhouse
Where a man studied
The herbal conduct