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Forty-five poems, a considerable number; an era in which it seems that creativity has a necessary reason to express it self.
An era, in which artistic intention seems to encourage us to pursue what we feel deeply.
This new anthology, written mainly during the summer nights just passed, is yet another commitment in trying to focus on the images "transmitted" by the soul, an attempt to visualise, in a lucid way, how much is preserved within it.
Soul, where are you, do you truly exist?
What is your language, the one through which disturbing figures reach me in the darkness of nocturnal sleep?
Dreams are your anticipations of the future that awaits us/could await us?
What do you look like?
If we could discover it, would we then know the Supreme Architect?
This collection is thus my prayer toward this goal.
An era, in which artistic intention seems to encourage us to pursue what we feel deeply.
This new anthology, written mainly during the summer nights just passed, is yet another commitment in trying to focus on the images "transmitted" by the soul, an attempt to visualise, in a lucid way, how much is preserved within it.
Soul, where are you, do you truly exist?
What is your language, the one through which disturbing figures reach me in the darkness of nocturnal sleep?
Dreams are your anticipations of the future that awaits us/could await us?
What do you look like?
If we could discover it, would we then know the Supreme Architect?
This collection is thus my prayer toward this goal.