ODE TO THE AIR

... the air shines,
shines and sparkles,
comes and comes,
rises,
feels and vibrates,
beats and lives …,
and, as in a cryptic, vivid and profound ecstasy,
there is in it a kind of triumphant rapture of daring and daring upwards;
… oh, oh, if only you could observe with me, this enormous halo of inimitable light,
this golden attire, the aesthetic song, its infinity of soul;
… at what hour, I say, at what instant of pure love it burns and rises,
that it gives everything and prints in the memories as a certain signature
that forgetting is in vain;
mysterious to live, this, without apparent knowledge or sight, as if it were a live ember armor or shield,
as a stone-law on faith and reason, as a shackle-shelter of present rigidity, cosmic and terrestrial;
... and yet …, its splendor,
the architecture of this subtle, unfading and etheric sound and timbre,
under a voice of inner fire that bursts forth with powerful force,
singing and burning with energetic and intrepid, brave and tense, divine verb;
… no, no woman or man will ever, ever be a dead lotus, ah, now, never…;
how else to burst forth to emerge and be in this complete and total excellence:
this enormous joy,
this magnificent-faced blossoming,
or this, this sublime contemplation of ineffable texture and immortal heartbeat, how …
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Antonio Justel/Orión de Panthoseas
https://oriondepanthoseas.com
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