And you came back

It was long ago when you left me, starting a trip that led you somewhere beyond my horizon. At first, I did not feel your absence. Of course, you always knew that I was a smart guy, so yes, I organized my life in order not to feel the void that you had left: Screens that didn’t go off for weeks, papers that overflowed storing capacities, black ink that turned invisible at the moment of signing, liquors that drowned my complicated thoughts, bodies that enraptured my instincts and made them work against my wills, old planes that took me to places where women had no rights and no cars, ships that carried me to perceived havens, tools that allowed me to go deeper, and deeper, and deeper, into the sea…

And then my ears popped and bled, havens turned ugly, ships deviated from their route crossing rivers of dark smelly water, the IMF squeezed my country like if trying to make juice out of a dried fruit, unemployment’s mouth grew bigger and bigger, swallowing entire families month after month; and my optimistic half died when it found out that 500 pesos, spaghetti and ice cream, were not enough to cure cancer. That was the first time that a child’s smile left me a bitter aftertaste.

So as the world started to teeter, I restarted my quest again.

I looked for you in a thousand dawns, in the seven seas, on the top of a mountain and in the early morning mist. But I could not touch you.

I looked for you in the church, at the mosque, at the synagogue and at the temple; and asked a priest, an imam, a rabbi and a monk. But they had never seen you.

I looked for you in the teachings of Plato, Aristotle, Descartes, Locke, Hume and Kant. But I could not read you.

I looked for you in the notes of Bill Evans, Keith Jarrett, John Coltrane and Jerry Mulligan. But still, I could not hear you.

I looked for you in a sip of the finest red wine, in a pinch of saffron, in a white truffle and in the lips of an Asian mermaid. But I could neither taste you, nor smell you.

However, one day, I took pencil and paper, and wrote this:

I tore your clothes off
like people do with the petals of a flower.
In order to see your soul,
but I didn't see it.

And all around us
-horizons of land and water-
everything, until the infinite,
got filled by an immense, lively essence.

And then I knew that, even though I could not see you, hear you, touch you, smell you or taste you; you were there.

You were back.

With me.

This one is for C. Thank you for bringing back my will.