Reclinatorio


Prosigue that latin reading in your tuned voice

while my eyes follow the movements of your hand

that rehearse a new gesture of admonition.

Your finger-nails are the same

that I saw on the young clergy-man's right hand in Saint-Elizabeth

at the moment of Benedictio,

but now I remember that your family is a worship whorshipper one

so that your mother sang your lullaby with the gregorians,

you played at mass in the transept

and you learnt to speak without trouble and in common voice into the church

leaving the soft murmur to folks that do not feel like you a sensation of familiarity behind Divinity

and do not accept a God living in the home, taking breakfast at morning and carrying a silk pyjama at night:

From this reclinatorio I feel the incense of your hair

and I remember how you receive the kiss with the fervour of a communion

and how you confess that word: "Amore"

because you never dreamt on mundanities

your soul always stepped forward, almost alone,

leaving the body that we carry on shoulders, quite forgotten

but never neglecting your bath nor the hygienic gurgles,

of course!



I understand that admonition gesture,

but I love your heart that sang the first time with Song of Songs

prosigue your latin readings

with that emotionally tuned voice, which punctuation tries to call my attention out of this secret thoughts,

with that Good-Shepherd's eyes that never go away from the Bible but to give me a smiling glance.




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