Indeed, those few seconds makes M a mystic.
the body as a traveling cage that is forgotten in those few seconds when we're airbound.
There is a deep wisdom in the heart of this poem: the body as travelling cage, and the inevitable touch of dust must surely remind your readers of their own humanity.
I was thinking about this same thing the other day--your closing stanza wraps the reader in the wisdom you impart here--
I am new here. The last three lines of this piece...simply hit me right in the soul strings. Thank you for that.
se M continuar com fé e não se perder entre tantas gravidades variáveis, nunca aprenderá que para voar não é preciso "abandonar" o chão. Em todo caso, um e outro são só um ângulo de visão. se existem realidades concretas? e liberdades possíveis? Ah querida poeira, possibilidade de vôo, queda, e pouso. Eu-pedra-em-pedacinhos!
as an M, you gave me a jolt. I know it's not to me - but it is, in a way, in the way that poets - and you, Kenia, are a poet - speak to those willing to listen even to the hard truths. ~
If I were to quote all I liked about this poem, I'd end up quoting the whole thing, but I can't resist putting a spotlight on "is that a body is a traveling cagebound to the ground by the law of gravity" and that brilliant ending, "it's the touch of dust whichteaches we are madeof the same thing." You have a refreshing poetic voice. (Also I wonder if this is a new blog, as I was sure I was already following it, either way, I'll be back)