ETERNAL GUEST - Original poem - 100 Days poetry challenge Day #7

Greetings, Steemians and companions of steemitschoolpoetry.
We arrived at the seventh of the hundred days of poetry, what a beautiful experience.
Thankful to the people who support me and who have read what I am creating for the cycle of 100 days of Poetry summoned by steemitschool: The broken mirror-Day1 / The habit of the monk-Day2 / This skin that I inhabit-Day 3/ Guest I - Day 4 / Guest II - Day 5 / Guest of light -Day 6. And I leave sonnets, leaving little by little the flow of poetry more free. I still hope you like it.

To accompany the reading, I recommend this extraordinary topic:
Enya. Now We Are Free Now We Are Free

"If you cry because you can not see the sun, tears
They will not let you see the stars "
Rabindranath Tagore
(1861 - 1941)
Nobel Prize for Literature, 1913

ETERNAL GUEST

Clarified muse that cradles my soul,
You remove the meter and release my verse.
You do not accept jail that cages your aura
and no rhyme to mark your own song.

The night clothed your soul in his cloak
and the moon gave you a ladder of light
so that you would fly very high,
dreaming, dreaming in a prayer.

Beloved father of one hundred battles,
you went silent sitting on sighs,
leaving a wake that marks the way,
of stars route and lights flares

My Father, center of my heart,
You planted very deep within me, love,
that bell that bends beautiful,
sounding, sounding the same song.

You did not deliver me from all my fears,
You gave me the courage to face them myself.
You did not turn off my inner flame,
You blew and blew so she's alive.

You did not take away from me the pain of losing yourself
You gave me the courage to win.
You did not imprison my being in your death,
You opened the cage to see me fly

HUÉSPED ETERNO

Esclarecida musa que acuna mi alma,
me quitas el metro y me sueltas el verso.
No aceptas barrotes que enjaulen tu aura
ni rima que marque tu propia canción.

La noche arropó tu ida en su manto
y la luna te dio una escalera de luz,
para que te fueras volando muy alto,
soñando, soñando en una oración.

Bienamado padre de cientoún batallas,
te fuiste callado montado en suspiros,
dejando una estela que marca el camino,
de ruta de estrellas y luces bengalas.

Padre mío, centro de mi corazón,
sembraste muy dentro de mí, el amor;
esa campanita que dobla bonito,
sonando, sonando la misma canción.

No me libraste de todos mis miedos,
me diste el valor de enfrentarlos yo misma.
No apagaste mi llama interior,
soplaste y soplaste para que esté viva.

No me quitaste el dolor de perderte,
me diste el coraje para que ganara.
No apresaste mi ser en tu muerte,
me abriste la jaula para que volara.

Original poem by @zeleiracordero

In memory of José Rafael Cordero

Reading notes: # Intermediates
Images of Pixabay

Thanks to @d-pend for the creation of this space to share our creations. I am also grateful to @dobartim, @flysky and to the #steemitschool team ... A big hug.

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For accompanying me, reading me and always being there ... Simply THANKS