BREEZE / BRISA

Carlos Alberto BUSTILLOS



BREEZE


Air that moves,
curtains, sheer drapes,
a fresh breeze.

 

Summer,
heat,
air,
life,
life-giving,
air that cools.

 

In that bland life
where nothing happens,
air that stirs.

 

A morning
on a Saturday,
among words,
music fluttering,
poems hanging
in that electric world.

 

Words carried by the breeze,
a story meant to tell nothing memorable,
small moments of someone newly awake.

 

Breeze that brightens those resting moments,
instants to savor the words,
words the wind brings
into this poem
of air.

------


BRISA

Aire que se mueve,
cortinas, visillos,
brisa fresca.

 

Verano,
calor,
aire,
vida,
vivificante,
aire que refresca.

En esa vida insulsa,
donde nada pasa,
aire que anima.

 

Una mañana
de un sábado,
entre palabras,
música que revolotea,
poemas que se cuelgan
en ese mundo eléctrico.

 

Palabras movidas por la brisa,
historia para no contar nada memorable,
pequeños momentos de alguien recién levantado.

 

Brisa que alegra esos momentos de descanso,
instantes para paladear las palabras,
palabras que trae el viento
en este poema
de aire.

Comments +

Comments2

  • sorenbarrett

    Carlos this poem evokes thoughts of how poems are air, vibrations in air, sound waves carried on the wind to those within distance to hear. Very nicely written it vibrates.

    • Carlos Alberto BUSTILLOS

      Thank you, Soren. I love how you took the metaphor a step further: poems as vibrations in the air, waves traveling through space.
      In the end, poetry and the breeze share that exact nature—they only truly exist when they move and touch us. Warm regards!

      • sorenbarrett

        It is my pleasure my friend. Yes that is the feeling I get and we are all made of vibrations as is everything else. Maybe somewhere some one will hear and feel.

      • Tristan Robert Lange

        What a lovely piece, Carlos! The moving air gently awakens the room, the senses, and the language itself. Nothing monumental needs to happen...the ordinary moment already contains enough life to savor. Wonderful write, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦‍⬛

        • Carlos Alberto BUSTILLOS

          Thank you so much, Tristan. You captured the very soul of these verses: the beauty of the ordinary, which doesn't need to be "monumental" to be sacred. Sometimes, a Saturday morning and a little fresh air are all the life we need to savor.
          I truly appreciate your sensitivity and your lovely words



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