As much as they promise me eternal life,

however much they attest I shall live in Eternity,

I confess I love much more this body I was given,

as well as dearest, sometimes also enchanted,

this way of living we created for ourselves.

I am not able to evoke if there are other worlds

or other beings – people who think, speak and love

just like us.

I only know that an old book says we were made

on the sixth day of saint and sacred a week,

in the image and likeness of the Creator.

Then, I think we could apply to be His sole heirs,

and, still in our dear earth, enter in possession

of the promised land, that Canaan where milk

and honey flow, and evil never finds shelter.


This poem and all others at this blog, authored by Edilson Afonso Ferreira ©


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