3D Genetic Algorithm's - Abstract Nº 30

[...]

One day you want to cover

the arch of the sky
the way a raven does,
the way a finger can.
Then you are reduced to an itch
that moves around your chest.
Today you are your soul,
a misprint in a book
no one will open anymore.
You shout at the ears of God,
but they are sewn shut
with a silk thread
that leads to a tired heart.

The day leaned against
the door for a while,
then on your hand,
and it was gone.
This sky has been watching
you, going off to work,
coming home, not strong,
nor tired, nor anything.
It listened to your arguments
patiently, bored, or deaf,
a blackened orange
suspended
in the frozen air.

The first stars appear,
and you are their shepherd
leading them to the troughs
of the coming dawn.
You are leaving home,
clumps of dirt
under your shoes.
The geranium
that exploded this morning
in a burst of laughter
goes away quietly too
under a dry climate
of stars.

Ernesto Trejo, "The arch of the sky dream".