There is a world waiting for its time to happen.

It waits, attentive to the counterpoint marker,

its turn to enter the scene.

Eyes open, anonymous among the spectators,

an envoy, an emissary, and a plenipotentiary  

of the author of the play, so that each speech,

each act, mainly unkind and wicked ones,

do not become lost.

The author, at home and even more anonymous,

did not want to witness the event, surely regretful

and disconsolate of the rawness at times

he could not avoid in the unfolding of the plot.

And so different worlds overlap on the stage,  

at its due and exact time.

The author, yet aware he portrayed real life,

in his forced retreat, 

his decaffeinated coffee and non-alcoholic beer,

a cloistered five o’clock tea,  

a sad and lonely heart. 

Published in The Galway Review, July 30 2025

Published in The Wise Owl, August 2025

Published in Feed the Holy, Dec 23, 2025

http://www.feedthehol.blogspot.com

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

Comment of the author: In fact, I believe that, in this poem, I wanted to draw a analolgy between the role of the writer, who know he must portray real life, often cruel and mercilless, and our good and compossionate God, who guides us, (sometimes just acompanies us – see free will ), through the journeys of each one of us.