My New Sky

"Another Sky"

A sponge to wash the sky does not exist
even if you could lather it
and then throw buckets of the sea
and hang it under the sun to dry
you would still miss a quiet bird

there are no methods to touch the sky
but even if you reached out like a palm tree
and manage to caress it in your deliriums
and finally found out how it feels to the touch
you would still miss the cotton cloud

a bridge to cross the sky does not exist
but even if you managed to reach the other side
through memories and prophecies
and were able to prove that it isn't that hard
you would still miss a pine tree at dusk

this is because that sky is not yours
even though it is impetuous and torn
on the other hand when you reach the one that belongs to you
you won't want to wash it touch it or cross it
but the bird the cloud and the pine tree will be there

Mario Benedetti.

With my apologies to Mr Benedetti for the translation. This is my favorite poem. It speaks to me because for many years, I tried to find what would make me happy in all the wrong places, and while I accomplished a lot academically, I was never truly happy. It took years of soul searching but I was finally ready to admit it:I was not happy. As much as I accomplished, I always felt something missing from my life... until I discovered art. It was like taking a very deep breath after being under water for longer than I can remember, and finally, the search was over:Art is my new sky.