Concetta La Placa
LOVE, HOLD ME TIGHT.
Love, don't leave me here alone.
Hold me close to your chest and together we will watch the moonlight;
we will listen to the poignant notes of memories...
And then, it will be a concert of love dedicated to our existence and I will still be able to say a simple “I love you”.
WOMAN, MOTHER EARTH.
You, Woman, are like Mother Earth.It is true that you were the first sinner
along with Adam.
Yet your heart gives love
Your womb generates life
You are the only peninsula,
connected to the heart of man,
father of your children.
You know how to give tenderness ,
you know how to forgive.
You are the deep root
of your offspring,
and they prolong
your own life.
Woman, that man
who never
knew you,
has always lived
a half-life.
LET'S FOLLOW THE FLOW OF OUR SOUL'S CONSCIOUSNESS.
We are cosmic matter animated by the breath of existence:
life and its
cycle in every time and place.
It is like the script of a drama, written by the divine
director, where each act has its own meaning
Let us live it by following the flow of our soul's
consciousness, so that it reflects elevated thoughts, light, harmony and
goodness throughout humanity.
©Concetta La Placa
My father,
the day comes,
but you prefer
to still close
your eyes,
as if you were sleeping,
to relive
the moments
of your time gone by,
as if they were waves
that gently die
on the shoreline.
So, with your eyes
closed,
you feel, on your
face full of wrinkles,
the gusts of a poignant
nostalgia for the past.
You feel the embraces
of then,
those of your children
who were still small,
and the scent of the passion
for our mother,
your one great love,
which transform within you
into new emotions,
to nourish
your tired heart.
You half-close your eyes
and it seems like you're asleep,
but instead you're preparing
to face
the falling dark night,
to conquer
the fear of death
which, by now, you know well
is just around the corner.
You still seek
your hope,
now faded,
in our younger faces
and in our bright smiles,
so as not to be
enraptured by anguish.
You retrace, with pride,
your memories and your experiences,
without ever regretting it.
You half-close your eyes
on that old armchair,
but you don't sleep.
You breathe the exhalation
of your past successes,
but also of your failures,
to remind yourself of your
human fragility
and to accept
your impotence
in the face of the inevitable
end of life
which, you know well,
will soon arrive.
©Concetta La Placa
cycle in every time and place.
©Concetta La Placa
TO YOU, FATHER, WHO CLOSE
YOUR EYES.
My father,the day comes,
but you prefer
to still close
your eyes,
as if you were sleeping,
to relive
the moments
of your time gone by,
as if they were waves
that gently die
on the shoreline.
So, with your eyes
closed,
you feel, on your
face full of wrinkles,
the gusts of a poignant
nostalgia for the past.
You feel the embraces
of then,
those of your children
who were still small,
and the scent of the passion
for our mother,
your one great love,
which transform within you
into new emotions,
to nourish
your tired heart.
You half-close your eyes
and it seems like you're asleep,
but instead you're preparing
to face
the falling dark night,
to conquer
the fear of death
which, by now, you know well
is just around the corner.
You still seek
your hope,
now faded,
in our younger faces
and in our bright smiles,
so as not to be
enraptured by anguish.
You retrace, with pride,
your memories and your experiences,
without ever regretting it.
You half-close your eyes
on that old armchair,
but you don't sleep.
You breathe the exhalation
of your past successes,
but also of your failures,
to remind yourself of your
human fragility
and to accept
your impotence
in the face of the inevitable
end of life
which, you know well,
will soon arrive.
©Concetta La Placa
