Neruda

No man has ever made me feel the way Pablo Neruda has.

I vividly remember unwrapping a gift from years ago. It was a book of his poems. Surely, I had known his poems from random sources but I didn't really had his book until then. Gingerly, I took the book out of its pure white wrapping and took off its gold flecks. I sat in my favorite velvet chair and started to read. Out loud.

And then I almost fell out of my chair.

'Every day you play' has then become my favorite Neruda poem, a poem that never fails to bring me to hills, to shores of the ocean where I haven't been lately. His poetry had been a constant source of romantic escapism that none of any literature I've read had done. It makes me wish I was at a time that distance and time meant nothing to love --- and that one would patiently wait and not check her phone, would not move on so fast, would not mean that waiting is a sin to the future.

Today I still find myself trying to catch my breath every time my eyes graze at his words. How love, longing, loss and a confluence of all things sad and beautiful can come together, Neruda only knows.

Thank you, thank you for the gift of Neruda.
Catch my daily posts via Live an Inspired Life on Facebook!