It Happens

Tired walker, fateful thought, desperate action.

You will find peace here.

Between the sky and the water, we meet.

In the prayer of a holy card.

The colors of feathers and corals dye your hair.

Breathing relaxes and syncs with the movement of the sun.

Like lace, the seabed.

A soft breeze rocks you.

The tide whispers to the tapirs the secrets of the moon.

With a brushstroke, I caress you.

Time does not exist, so don’t hurry.

There is no territory either.

Beauty is perfect, nature is perfect, and painting is merciful.

Light needs darkness, and I need you.

I hope nothing changes.

I hope everything changes.

My task is for the pain to transmute.

The brush is my wand."

Francisca Amigo, 2024