With myself

WITH MYSELF
 
Restless I go, these days, without knowing
the cause that affects my senses. I invoke
the muses of my time, to search in the herd
of things that inhabit me, the reason of my ways.
 
I've been touring the pages of my diary
with its many hours of ambitious journeys
by the wide space of my chores, the bounds
of my dreams, fields where my desires grow.

Could it be that I am dissatisfied with my failure
to see in the horizon the peace that I yearn for,
the destiny that we all want to have,
the assets lost already in the efforts?
 
¡Of course! That's what my anxiety is all about,
are the beach and the estuary, and the jungle and the plains
and the corners where the crowd sets the fire,
the reason for this feeling a little bitter.
 

Repentism
Joseph Berolo.
10.28.2022