Lurking between a moment and another
between anguish and time
a name remains … we all wear it
instead of nothing: hope!
It is spring that rises again after a long winter,
it is the port where the sailors rest after the voyage.
We are afraid of the sea, of diving between infinity and perhaps.

Yes, every fear is greater than us
rests its shadows capable of holding back the wings of the soul.
No flight is possible
between what has been and what will never come true again.

Lack: a dream factory you fear …
When we are in confusion, suspended
between day and night with blurred lenses …
only the song of a siren remains to call …
Ah! to be able to see hope beyond the walls.
thin end that deviates from the blind bias of the impossible.

(…)

Hope is the prayer of a goodbye that returns.
it is the search engine, it is the sense, the song of a nightingale,
the sound of the sea after the storm.
That’s all it takes to reverse new omens.
Assumption that it does not travel in time but passes through it.

The moment I believe I am dealing with
the uncertainty of being able to get close
and sight the ambush of salvation