JB, February 2020
I wrote this stuff before the Ukraine war.
I know that evil begins into myself. It’s really not only a Putin problem.
February gives us longer days, gifts
when skies sink into a so deep rich blue
up there. Nothing dirties them now, anymore.
The wind blows away all smoke and sadness
God, how beautiful made your sky; February
today shares a so clear sun, a yellow
and alive party. Hug and relief.
May light win each night and bitterness
A whirlwind of air is a momentum,
shakes the cedar green from lazy sleep
of the immovable instants of winter.
Like that cedar, please solve my tiredness
It seems strange that could evil exist
pervasive, effective and so constant
under such a pure, beautiful sky.
Please God turn into strength each my weakness
February, 21st 2022