Idilia

Seas of paper, honey-colored shores and a crystal sky that revealed
satin meadows with pastel forests and a tree that as I passed by said
"come, sit and listen, I am the flower you will sow, your light, the winged fire in the chimera"

And a sonnet was an ideal to sketch
the wind in favor to the same place
my imaginary refuge that rises again
to dream in a thousand ways in Idyll

Lost in the babel I shouted and didn't hear myself, I climbed to my freedom and flew
to mashed potato clouds with cotton doves that an old tree taught to fly
and I raised my voice above the others and saw that the tree lives in my ideas

And a sonnet was an ideal to sketch
the wind in favor to the same place
my imaginary refuge that rises again
to dream in a thousand ways in Idyll

Travel to your ideal, sow your flower
cultivate your freedom, water your voice
close your eyes as there is enough room in Idyll for both of us

And a sonnet was an ideal to sketch
the wind in favor to the same place
my imaginary refuge that rises again
to dream in a thousand ways... painting while sowing
and a sonnet was an ideal to sketch
a thousand ways to dream in Idyll