A song to the sky (poetry)

The rain wanders
nude
Sun
the covers
suddenly.

Like dry grit
the breeze spreads,
and while she is falling,
us transposing.

The breeze starts to turn
to the leaf that hangs by a thread
of spider web.

The world of now,
but of the world that emerges
after which I lose myself.

On a yellowish folio
that flies like an airplane,
of stars a rosary
towards the direction he does not know.

Old gate
field, faded
you hold the time while you can
the rain flakes your color.

Through the window
the open eye of my room
April morning
wet, saddened

And to hang in the garden
the unguarded
root of the ferns.

Rain, that is;
the station of memories.

FUENTE