Breath of the Horizon

The breath of the horizon is hungry for words,
stretches the sun’s tongue through sea fissures,
listens to the echo of silent steps that never spoke a name,
and swallows the silence, asking for new sounds.
It feeds on forgotten memories, buried among the dunes,
ignites them like trembling embers beneath the ash,
every memory becomes a flame that sings a lost note,
and reveals to the world the voice time had extinguished.
It weaves them into cords that tremble at dawn,
a sudden alphabet challenges the course of memory,
every word lights a sail upon the breast of the horizon,
leaving a trail of salt, rain, and light.
Thus the breath advances, slow and steadfast,
the horizon, sated with sounds, breathes at the birth of day,
and memory, having returned to shine, nourishes the light of tomorrow,
until night falls silent and the word becomes dawn.