DUSK IS FALLING

 

THE SUNSET OF THE CROSS

I took this photo of «Cross Sunset» in the Colorado High Desert near the former NADA Discalced Carmelite Monastery (now a Buddhist Center I believe) in the town of Crestone Colorado. -where I spend a month of hermit retreat every year- to preserve my humanity in a world ruled by men. The Separation left us with a deep, almost unattainable sadness, which in lower doses, we attribute to human events. Like Vladimir Putin -not the first -not the last-, he is now inflicting Ukraine. Only the Great Mystics, like Saint John of the Cross, really know it. In ordinary life, we keep it at bay with the same defense mechanism that we use in neuroses: «Defensive Exclusion.»

 

                                                                                                  DUSK IS FALLING

                                                                                  (a poem of a teenager, with a broken, aborted self)

 

DUSK IS FALLING….

I WANT TO REST,

DO NOT DENY IT TO ME…

-MY LORD! -WITHOUT  YOU,

I FEEL AN INFINITE VACUUM,

IN A VERTIGO OF DOUBTS.

AND MY HEART SMOLDERS,

IN AN INCANDESCENT OF SADNESS

.

GRANT ME A BOUQUET

-OF NARDOS

TO ADORN A TOMBSTONE

AND A FLAKE OF SNOW

TO REFRESH MY LIPS!

 

  MUTE PRAYER THAT EXPIRES,

 IN THE EYELIDS OF THE SKY

DARKENING THE REFLECTION

OF A FRINGE OF TEARS

IN MY SHIPWRECKED EYES

OF INFINITE SADNESS!

 

                                                                                                            NARDO FLOWERS

                                                                                                     (Taken from: ‘de la Roja’)