Atlântico

                                                   Imperfeitos,

                                                   singraram o Atlântico,  

                                                   mãos ansiosas, mapeando novas terras,

                                                   bússolas afetivas,

                                                   acalentando sonhos distantes,

                                                   peles queimadas,

                                                   gosto de sal na boca

                                                   (tanto mar, tanto mar),

                                                   febre, malária, fibra e pranto.

    

                                                   Na cadeira de balanço – 

                                                   depositário da memória da tribo,

                                                   contemplo a caravela de madeira, pai, mãe, tio

                                                   violinista,

                                                   um agregado louco,

                                                   penso no Atlântico,

                                                   velas ao vento,

                                                   astrolábios,

                                                   à beira do poço do passado,

                                                   que não passa nunca,

                                                   imanente no presente.

                                                  

                                                   Mas proclamo – celebrante  –

                                                   “terra à vista, terra à vista”.

                                                   (Alvíssaras!)


Emanuel Medeiros Vieira

Escritor