Poetry by Maria Grazia Testa

we hold each other's hand as if everything, within us, knew. we let go, knowing only that nothing belongs to us.
this desolation gasps for reflections, wipes them away and calls them back with frenzy, looks for appeasement in thoughts of unity and, when not found, rattles for freedom. as if it were impossible to withstand the peace of this body, which is given to us only once and it's given, each time, in full. in this breath, that with certainty comes and goes, till it won't, and it won't, without delusion. in this mind, that left to its own acknowledgment, is in knowledge, and peace.

how can it be, to have one existence only and to labor purposely to change it all the time?
how can it be, trimmed between the fear of being, the hope of becoming, hindered to be what just is?

i wish today to be myself, with all myself, in my nature, in truth.
to bear the courage.
to own the wisdom.
to stop lying.
to have opportunity, and youth, on my side.
to live. and live for goodness.

so to you, my wonderful friends.