by Dario Chioli
We are at the end of the world.
Of every day, every moment
The gaze assesses the drift
Navigating the waves of time,
Remembering, waiting.
We are at the end of the world.
Every atom of our being
Chases its own vision
Of thrill and hope
In the shadowy recesses of everything.
We are at the end of the world.
The word is silent, the heart silent.
The mind, surrendered, rests.
In singular mystery
Everyone draws their own elixir.
We are at the end of the world.
Rivers without banks, without identity,
Are lost in the present.
Disconcerting and unexpected,
A path emerges and has no end.
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ABOUT THE POET ~
I am an Italian poet, writer, and essayist from Turin, Italy. I was born on January 28, 1956. I am interested in religious and esoteric matters, both Western and Eastern. In my view, life is a constant discovery, and only that knowledge that transforms the soul is true knowledge.