Hoped
Grows
Wanderlino
Arruda
It’s
here, the frontier
of magic lucidity,
affection-love, fondness.
Dream trip of light minutes,
brightness-flight
voracious and hot, lightning,
vibration that still boils
in majesty.
Color on color,
color inside color,
skin and tone,
illusory images more than
real.
Who knows the time?
Who cares now?
Today is amplitude
more than yesterday,
less than tomorrow.
Hope grows!
