Remembrance (II)

sweet clouds in red skies
tell me what became
of those alternative paths
the untold stories
that my choices left behind

Marcus Antoninus


Truth before prudence

Giordano Bruno, statue

You brother, you teacher,
you brave heart, mind and soul!
Why did you stay when you knew well
they would burn you at the stake?
For speaking out loud,
standing up and showing to the world,
the bottomless depths of your thoughts,
those precious insights
that the centuries proved right.
Those shattering new ideas,
that the dark priests could not hear.
You shook down their house of cards,
you disarmed their castle of power and lies.
Why, my dear friend, did you choose to stay?
Confronting them up for your words,
for the beautiful fruit of your thoughts.
Oh! my brother, you valued truth so much more
than all the prudence in the world.
You die wrapped in rope, your tongue bond
while the empty souls shamelessly looked on.
May we never forget you,
because so little has changed,
with all these new old priests
still bustling around,
your example and pride
will forever be
a beacon of light and insight.

Marcus Antoninus
Ode to Giordano Bruno

Childhood dreams

dreams of my childhood
light of my life,
secret jewels and joyful spirits!
at once silly,
nostalgic and uplifting,
sometimes retracted
but never gone for long
and always transcending
a harsh reality
and a world
not entirely lost.

Marcus Antoninus


In contemplating through
the charm and challenge
of our daily existence,
my heart-mind warms up and asks:
what have we learned?
what have we meant?
what have we left?

Sowing seeds and working our land,
investing in the long term now,
shining for each other,
with love and patience,
for you, for me,
for all of us.
What a privilege to be alive
here on this Earth,
with you,
and now.

Marcus Antoninus

Ode to a lost time

Long ago, in far away lands,
I grew up admiring the stars,
dreaming of distant mountains
and smelling the fresh grass.
In the crisp winter sky,
Centaurus shone proud and high,
and in lazy warm summer days
benteveos sang to the Sun.

One day I left for the north,
who knows looking for what,
now the childhood world already lost,
my old birds and stars will not come back.
I sit prisoner of space time,
with these memories warming my heart,
under a new gentle Sun
in these new here and now.

Marcus Antoninus