{Eternal Horizon}

 

Horizons in perdition,

rising winds, blowing winds,

sea before, sea of yesteryear,

night before, love now.

It is in this horizon, blue of night

night of love,

painter of the heart,

perilous march,

happy mother,

Interrupted, distracted, by this maternal love,

this girl in braces,

playing, running, shouting

And me painting.

I who dream of escaping

and land on this spike of vivid

of a captivating view, of a screaming wind,

love, love, I am on the horizon

and on your acrylic I am reborn.

Desire, pleasure, I travel,

and in this moon, I eclipse myself,

nomadic crossing, I escape

seasickness, marine soul,

I paint and I surrender

to you the horizon.

Gouache, oil, and begin again,

I erase, I take back, I throw away,

disappointment.

Until the poet lays down my sorrows

lays them down in words

and takes my hand

to encircle this horizon together,

together to traverse it and break

each wave, each storm,

every rising breath

to finally land on this fascinating Mont Blanc.

I'll paint and start again,

Horizons, childhood, sinking together this moment

forging it with my brushes

and you, poet, giving birth to it.

(c) Moustapha Chein

10 July 2023

Montreal