NOT SO CLOSE, NOT SO FAR

Where, how is the light made?
Inside, outside, near, far,
in the eye, in the mind, in the liver?

The light is born little by little,
near far in silence,
in its umbra of light and dark;
infinite smoke mirror, zero degree mood
not so close, not so far.

The pencil hand draws her will to power,
opening, observing,
wandering the line, the form.

Go, listen, go, do
and it is done in the hand
and in the eye the light
not so far, not so close.

Memory speaks your language
not so far, not so close.