'Solstice Of Mystery' By Brunilda Ternova Poem by Brunilda Ternova

The unhappy loneliness does not torment me,
that comes and goes,
and insinuates itself everywhere,
but the self-induced withdrawal of the ego,
that shows up at all times,
in these unheard words,
in these planted letters,
in sensations and intimate suggestions,
that trigger tangles
of flames and pains.

The darkness of death does not frighten me,
which is confirmed without explanation,
insinuating itself in an unsolved cycle,
but the frozen life of Me,
that meets sporadically,
in these submerged lands,
in these deep waters,
in modifications of the general design,
which destroys to renew,
my immeasurable introspections.

I'm not frightened of the future,
which passes and arrives,
insinuating itself imminent,
but the human condition of the Self,
which is full of precognitions,
in these suspended resolutions,
in these future elaborations,
to stem my uncertainties.

I'm not astonished by the light,
that constantly floods,
and enters enchanted,
but by my transcendent nature,
who is not human,
in these demanding realities,
in these necessary multi-dimensions,
in keys of perennial rebus,
in the solstices of the recurring mysteries.
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Copyright © BRUNILDA TERNOVA