The trees

There was a time when the trees grew with their boney and crooked branches only and exclusively up. The scientists looked at such wonder with faked awe and said that the Apocalypse was very soon to come. Religious people came close to the trees with peace and study in their faces and gave all kinds of explanations related to botany. It was the fall. The remaining leaves fell and the branches were left completely shelterless as the wild animals ran off the frozen trunks in order to go hide on the other side of the horizon, into the sea. The branches finished then their straightening when the Winter ended. Spring made the insects come back and they all became plague. Harvests were destroyed, animals sacrificed and food was compressed. The youth came out to the streets to announce the end of the world with enormous banners and protest yelling aimed at the Creator. Children and professionals left out pencils and, at seeing themselves disabled at erasing, they wrote with electronic keyboards, without mistakes. Summer came and all the trees were now over two meters high. A year had passed and man still could not understand the why of nature's behaviour. Churches began to give and forgive people's sins on the squares, which were left without plants since they had to cut everything down for everyone to fit in. Scientists started to study the trunks and branches with real eagerness, and they realized that they were more normal than ever. So, every person on Earth that was not linked to science or religion started to lose their faith in evolution and creation when they realized scientists and priests were getting rich at their expense. So, one day, they simply threw them into the void. The following day a true Spring began and people came out into the streets to work and live in peace, without using more than was needed and thinking only about the future with patience and wisdom. From the trees leaves sprouted, branches bloomed and flowers gave abundant fruit. And then said God: it is amazing that these poor men require so much in order to understand that science and religion should consist only of being happy.

Written in 1991

spanish version

The greatest gift

She gave me a smile
in my old and sad face
in my forgotten and dry body

She turned my day into sun
my anxiety into relief
and my cold into goosebumps

She wrapped me in her arms
for a scarcely eternal second
for a moment
my heart at last without hollows

And here I am
after such a long time
knowing that all, all,
everything compiles into a hug:
simple as that...



click here for the original Spanish version

Musical intermission about the egg-and-the-chicken conundrum (free will vs "everything's written")

God is music. God is all of our feelings. God results from everything that comes off from our instincts.

Or it might be that our instincts are directly granted by him to us. So that we understand. So that we go back to our most basic moment of feeling. So that we also know. So that we could be aware of how needy he is of us and vicerversa. So violently. So precariously linked to us. But linked in the end. Because it is supposed to be that he gives us freedom of choices, isn't it? But, hey. "Everything's written" say those who know "but you've got the power to choose". And I say(at least I used to say at the time I wrote this text three years ago, when I was still happy): Well, yeah, that's right.

It's like music: Like when you start imagining some tune, chorus or a piece made of some series of chords. Nothing's written, but you might very likely have an idea of where it is you want to get to, because at the very time you commenced writing or devising you just went on following your inspiration that was but molded by no other thing than your environment, your feelings at the moment and a whole series of events that led you to start, and that now do nothing but let themselves be driven off by a song that's writing itself without your hand's being able of avoiding the happenings of your mind that are being embodied onto silence, with such luck that the song was practically written since the moment it was conceived but in fact wrote itself...


Click here for the original Spanish version