Con este poema estoy participando en el #ClubDePoesia de @freewritehouse, con el tema: "a cada paso"

En el andar de la vida

A cada paso vamos dejando sonidos,
silencios que se abordan con cierto miedo,
clarividencias que
se cuelan como la brisa caliente
y se disipan en la distancia,
recogen esa quietud abandonada en los caminos.

Algunos andantes quedan grabados en fotografías
que las paredes custodian y
el tiempo acaricia,
permanecen con la persistencia que da la vida,
alejándolos del abandono.

Así vamos,
como un eco que se niega a volver,
el grito se hace noche,
viento detenido en la gota que
resbala por las sienes,
como una caricia indeseada.

Interesante sería un tropel de piernas
pisando el silencio,
a cada paso,
el grito unísono.

A la intemperie de los sentimientos
las huellas quedan,
con dolor, con placer.
Satisfechas,
mis manos exploran como ciego
el rostro amado.

Hacia donde vamos
la distancia la mide el tiempo.
A cada paso la vida se va desgastando,
hay una memoria que se aferra,
encapsula gestos,
miradas
o esos ruidos
que solo el vacío deja escapar,
nos permite el recuerdo,
para salvarnos del olvido.

With this poem I am participating in the #PoetryClub of @freewritehouse, with the theme: ‘at every step’.

As we go through life

At every step we leave sounds,
silences that are approached with a certain fear,
clairvoyances that
that creep in like a warm breeze
and dissipate in the distance,
they pick up that stillness abandoned on the roads.

Some walkers are engraved in photographs
that the walls guard and
time caresses,
they remain with the persistence that gives life,
keeping them away from abandonment.

And so we go,
like an echo that refuses to return,
the cry becomes night,
wind stopped in the drop that
slides down the temples,
like an unwanted caress.

Interesting would be a troop of legs
treading on the silence,
at every step,
the unison cry.

In the open air of feelings
the traces remain,
with pain, with pleasure.
Satisfied,
my hands explore like a blind man
the beloved face.

Where we're going
the distance is measured by time.
With each step life is wearing away,
there's a memory that clings,
encapsulates gestures,
glances
or those noises
that only emptiness lets escape,
allows us to remember,
to save us from oblivion.

_{Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version) /The images were created with https://www.bing.com/images/create and edited with PhotoScape.}