Eva Colombo, Our gold, third chapter: Future’s ashes ( Inspired by Anne
Brigman’s photo The dying cedar )
I don’t need to look at you to know who you are: you are those ones who believe
they are living in the present, and you don’t know that present doesn’t exist. I
don’t need to listen to you to know who do you believe I am: an useless woman
since I am not your property, since you can’t use me as a tool of yours. Now I
can’t either look at you or listen to you because I’m dreaming the dreams of a
dying cedar. Now I am a ship which ploughs seas and carries treasures, I am the
foundations of a city which makes mankind proud, I am the door which guards the
eternal wisdom. And I am the terrible beauty of fire, the scent which ascends
into the sky and the ashes which make the ground fertile. I am a cedar tree who
with her own needles embroiders on the sky a prayer for the wrecks, the ruined
cities, the doors no one is capable of opening anymore. And the wind changes me
again into fire and scent, into ashes which make the ground fertile so that what
cannot die would be able to be born again. You believe me to be an useless woman
who dreams in the shade of a dying cedar, believe it if you like. When I will
open my eyes again you will be vanished along with your inexistent present, and
the future will be by my side. |
