Compass

I searched for myself
there, between the tangled bushes of unused neurons
and overanalyzed cells, between the tousled tissues
I found what I was, and better yet
what I am: of roots that do not cease
to plant their destiny in each touched
soil. The galerna winds scattered my thickets
uncoiling the bit of sanity I had left,
energizing my blood
poisoned
with low oxygen, and blowing
its ideas to ears discovering
the high seas.