Colores de la tierra caliente
Martes, 18 Junio 2019 18:44
Escrito por Raúl Eduardo González
¿And what, if not the soil? That tenacity that compacts, and then tumbles, to then merge itself on its insides and resurrect in glowing eruption, to emerge in a coarse mountain range and then be crag and later pebble, mortar of itself; sand, slit open clod, dust storm between the hands of the wind, infinitesimal dust that seeps in the sieve of the sun ray, riverbed surrendered in the old sentence of the restless return that human life is.
Fertile mud, hostage that has given in to water’s seduction;and also clay, yes, seat of the flow that has made pools through the course of millenia, and in its docile dialogue with the hands of men has became the metaphor of creation itself, where fire must place the redeeming breeze so that the clapboard is born, the tile, the bowl, the paving stone that with its colorful geometry seems to defy the long and slow course of the earth, and aspires to stay always in one piece.
¿And what, if not the soil? That tenacity that compacts, and then tumbles, to then merge itself on its insides and resurrect in glowing eruption, to emerge in a coarse mountain range and then be crag and later pebble, mortar of itself; sand, slit open clod, dust storm between the hands of the wind, infinitesimal dust that seeps in the sieve of the sun ray, riverbed surrendered in the old sentence of the restless return that human life is.
Fertile mud, hostage that has given in to water’s seduction;and also clay, yes, seat of the flow that has made pools through the course of millenia, and in its docile dialogue with the hands of men has became the metaphor of creation itself, where fire must place the redeeming breeze so that the clapboard is born, the tile, the bowl, the paving stone that with its colorful geometry seems to defy the long and slow course of the earth, and aspires to stay always in one piece.