They suddenly dive in your soul
with all the weight of their lives
pretending that the past
is dead and buried in oblivion
but the high tide of memory
washes old images to the shore
of your benevolent mind
and your heart starts beating
an ancient tempo long forgotten
and painful
and sad
tears like pearls of distress
appear in your eyes
and you pretend to laugh
to conceal the deep injury
cut open in a past scar of yours
night ends up your day
like a black shroud
that buries your last illusions
your soul like theirs
has not yet mastered
the quietude of prayer
that brings solace and forgiveness
Claude Lopez-Ginisty
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