travel through the universe
with no trace of pretension
and even if you left the liens
colors you have not been abandoned.
For your gruesome smile reveals
you and your footprints are visible in the breeze.
enough that we lose only one second
and there you are extending your hand.
But not everyone can see your face lit
because do not see what you do not believe, and you
naive, believing that leave no trace;
although no one who hears, as the tree falls.
And though sometimes I yearn to be on another level, your colorful
spectral fingerprints are those
with anything that is broken and it concluded sadness
making those cravings a vague memory.
For you, dear and bizarre ghost
you stay in the aspect of eternity,
from japan when the moon is lost
or laughs at your hand, the eternal smile.
And what about this lost pilgrim
push him find his way.
You see I do not expect your nativity;
because I do believe in ghosts ...!
Written to a dear friend ... Jean Vallenilla
