The Oblivion of the Audacious Comparison

When a comparison, fresh and never heard,
tears the veil from what was already said,
it is a flash that carves an unwritten path,
in the darkness of an imperfect thought.
A bridge thrown across the unknown abyss,
a river changing its mouth’s course,
a vibrant song, a deep breath,
that shakes the soul with a new voice.

But time, slow weaver of habits,
sharpens its edges, smooths its contour.
Tread upon by a thousand mouths, it changes clothes,
losing the gleam that was its splendor.
No longer an horizon, but a beaten road,
no longer a miracle, but simple law.
The audacity dulls, surprise grows silent,
and its original fire goes out.

Now it lies, a word among many,
in the vocabulary of a dead tongue.
Its ancient strength, now distant,
a whisper just behind every door.
It forgets the echo of its first cry,
swallowed in the whirlpool of common use.
Only a vague shadow of its splendid nest,
under the spent moon of every autumn.