BEYOND THE BRIDGE
by Sorana Lucia Salomeia

Life, life is a dream -
The dream of our existence,
Sweet ecstasy or bitter visions.
We breathe and think –
In consequence we live
But what is life
Without death’s lugubrious being?
Is death the end of the dream
We call “life”
And the beginning of our true
Nature?
The bridge between
Laughter and tears,
Paradise and hell,
Existence and non-existence.
This is our life:
An endless row of voices
Repeating Hamlet’s obsessive question:
To be or not to be?
Where is the end and
How far is the beginning?

* * *

When death comes down the hill on tip – toe
And Chronos, sipping from the cup of stars,
Stops our clock just with the throw of a look,
We find the end of the beginning…
Or is it the beginning of the end?

We close our eyes
But as they close
They open
And all around us
There is nothing more than
Earth, smithereens and ashes,
Moist, autumn winds and pain,
Wounds, blood, scars and rifles,
Rage, clouds, violence and darkness,
A world we ourselves have created
And yet want more,
Still not knowing what we want.

* * *

Travellers on beams of light,
The fortune-tellers are almost here
Smiling with pity and tearful eyes
Asking for forgiveness and mercy

“Forgive us for having killed you,
Forgive us!”

But all I want is to be dead now,
Both in their minds and yours!

What could there be beyond death
When the blood freezes in our veins,
When lips are silent and so mute,
When eyes are forever closed, the body cold…

When paper burns
It half falls down in ashes
And what is left
Rises up in smoke;
And just like the paper, we transform
As we are always meant
To live in different, varied forms
We are mostly unaware of …

But all I want is to be dead
Both in their minds and yours!


Copyrighted © Sorana Salomeia, Iasi, Romania