caves of wisdom

In the caves of wisdom
many empty their screams,
in the hollows of passion
some swallow their dreams,
in the deep dumps of sadness
all of them submerge as reborn gods or goddesses,

and none of the witted
sustain unproudly
the scars of the darkened phantoms.
Then the first winds of times
whisper
their glowing miracle,
the mist of the approaching glory
embraces us as the true sign.
And the snow enchants our sin,
sparkles our breasts
in a blanket of white -
right in front of our ravished eyes.
The odor of the chorals
spreads into all our pours,
and the idiom of light,
the print of life,
opens before us
all the meaningful doors.

(by Conceição Sousa)