
THREADS OF SMOKE
Threads of smoke,
that rise like calligraphy…
The words of a strange
and unknown language,
that float in the wind,
and for a second in time
create spectacles to
seduce the senses
and then disappear,
like those who flee,
like those who hide their face…
But those who do not fear,
never doubt,
never run,
never hide.
Their faces look bravely towards the sun
and their eyes receive no harm.
Unlike those who face the sun
and melt like candles
that have burnt throughout the night…
You, Father of orphans
and protector of widows,
who lives in the holiest of places,
you who calms our grief,
and paints a smile upon our faces.
Father of wonder
who liberates the captive
and comforts the tormented,
liberator of the poor and discontented,
make a home for us, inactive
and in need,
and free us from our greed…
C.2024, Francisco Bravo Cabrera – 19 MAY 2024 – Valencia, Spain
Buenos días Francisco. Grato despertar leyendo tu poema. Un gran abrazo.
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Buen día por la mañana Manuel, muchísimas gracias! Un abrazo y feliz día.
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Beautiful poem and great image!!!
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Grazie mille gentilissima Luisa e bona giornata!
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Buona giornata anche a te, caro Francisco 🌿
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Grazie e saluti!
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🙏❣️🙏
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So beautiful, Francisco! And the clouds in the photo look painted.
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Those are the skies over Miami… Thank you Dawn, very much!
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My pleasure!
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