Like a hawk fallin' from the clouds

A crown of milky clouds
embraccing the holy chapel
above me
and the train,
counting its rolling steps of steel
while a gentle violin of wind
let those clouds smile
in a torrent of rainy thoughts.

A squared mess of clouds
roaring thunders of symphonies
above me
and the train,
shipping that snorting vessel
to somewhere in poems
to something in music
to somebody in an ocean of faces ...

Like a hawk ... fallin' down

from that crown of clouds
creaming the ivory of its flight
with the gentle hands
of a big asleept giant;

from those strict stairs of stars,
like dancers in a silent ballet
at the Bolshoi of Universe;

from me
flying
above my skyscrapers of dust
above my castles of cards
above my streets of doubts;

Untill ...