Nuestros Pequeños Hermanos

domingo, 8 de septiembre de 2013

Querer: to love

From 36,000 Feet:

 

i can't carry what you

carry. but i can see

the music in your smile.

 

 

It's not fair that I have to tell you everything you mean to me in my second language. It's not fair that even though I rock you to sleep and whipser in your ear, mi amor, mijo, te quiero, but I will never see the man you become. It is not fair that the childhood you have been denied is a possesion I can never give up, so as to say to you, sé lo que sientes. It is not fair that you have been robbed, through no fault of you own, of the people who could heal you, of the two people who bring me more joy than I could ever describe. I will never be able to arrive to that missing piece of your heart, no words I say will ever be from the lips you long to kiss your forehead. I never asked for it to be like this.

All I am is a vessel, I can do no more than give you over my hands and my heart, hoping that through them you feel God's spirit pulsing through you. And when I retire my body from the daily rhythm of your wakings and sleepings, your hush, your laughter, your anger and your joys, I will be the one forever changed. I will be the one unable to see with the same eyes or sing with the same voice.


I will never change that we walk different caminos. So to you I promise: when I am with you I will be. Toma mi mano y sepa que te quiero como si fuera mío.



1 comentario:

  1. Cuánta belleza encuentro en tu escritura, en tus composicones. Gracias por compartir tus pensamientos. :)

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