Confession

I confess the faith I placed in the self-importance,
I confess the faith in self-sufficiency.

Way of drying up
Across barren fields
And furrow of loneliness and suffering.
This self can do nothing.

From the bottom of the soul, resonates the continuo call
Silence. Returning is a movement of exhaustion.

Cushions laid under the hollow parts are colored with virtue,
The fold of fabrics on disciples’ bodies heralded words of wisdom.

I understood the self can never be other than the self.
It stimulates. I stimulated.
Mastery, progress along the way, shortcuts and bypass
While denouncing simulations from others.

When talking about the knots others are entangled in, it really talks about its own knots of entanglement,
Every gesticulation tightens the knots a bit more and it therefore further simulates authenticity and absence of simulation.

The worst form of ignorance comes from the one who pretends to know.
I have been this person.


I confess today that, in all those sciences, I know nothing,
I realize every mastery will keep me further away from what saves me.

Therefore, I lay everything down.


Beliefs, talents, arrogance, judgements, knowledge from the books, amplified gesticulation,
Expectations, weaknesses, intimate suffering,
Restless nights of despair,
Erratic days,
Engulfed loves
Yelling from the back of a hidden crypt,


Failing my brothers,
Abysses where my life experiences fray
Hours of sitting by the hearth of candles,
Secret prayers when everything collapses


This crazy faith, naked, brave and yet powerless
My dry tears, unnoticed,
Dripping down the inner slope
And my heart, slashed
By the words and the cries,
How could I even step one foot.


I have no one to talk about those words
I have nowhere to bring them to
But here, in front of You.


©FJ Oct 2021 – All Rights Reserved
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Many thanks to all.
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