Nostalgia For The Past Times (Original Poem)

How to get back to a time
which doesn't belong to the time?
Writing words on the wall of the present
Could make it happen?
Or would this be a desperate attempt
which the effect can not quench
The thirst for a thrilling memory.

Words are an invisible bridge
That the poet crosses into oblivion
In order to unchain a souvenir
From a saturated imagination
And the soul from some suffering.

Under this beautiful sky
In every corner of mother earth
Links are weaved
Others are unraveled
And people
Places
Become things
become souvenirs
An image that fades
As the days passes
A mountain that hides another
A line that erases another
The cawing of a crow in the distance
Spreading its ugly shadow
On the ruins of a past
Crucified at the door of forgetfulness.

I take the time to contemplate
The drop of ink dropping from my pen
Hoping to discern some fireflies
A few fleeting moments of life
I distinguished in its shiny blackness
Only an image of a dull fixed memory
Amidst a heavy mass of death
Maybe the present is just the fake nose
Of the past
and yesterday is just the present day
But elsewhere.

It is useless to hold on here
Change is constant
Suspended on the filaments of my perception
Between nebulae images of what was
And the horizon of what will be
I remain invisible observer
Of a castle of sand
Rebuilt every day
On the shores of the TIME.

R.M