When my feet and top of my head
Fill the gap between suns
That is my destination.
When the Earth welcomes my body
And the sky emprisons my soul
That is my destination.
When my conscious is no longer
And my bones rattle no more
That is my destination.
When I stroll among the frozen air
And breathe out warmth
That is my destination.
When I can no longer see
And I can no longer speak
That is my destination.
When I cannot dance and hold hands
And kiss their faces
That is my destination.
And before I set off on this tired path
I'll look each one in the eye
And say, my son, in the end
That is my destination.
YOU ARE READING
Destinations.
PoesíaA poem from myself to myself. It's not very long, or very skillful, but it gets its own point across the table.
