Ainara Maia Urroz
2018-10-06 09:35 — Bitola, Macedonia
Flowers in the trash
Sometimes my emotions and feelings can get in my way. This is what I've come to realize in these first weeks of visiting Macedonia. By meeting new people I find out more about myself. How I'm supposed to be balancing my virtues and limits, as hard as it is. Sometimes I play the victim card too easily, sometimes I'm too shy, sometimes I don't show enough of my self. Expressing my feelings orally: it is something I'm still learning. This is one of the reasons why I like to write poetry: to express my inner and hidden feelings.
Sometimes the beautiful hidden flowers can be found next to “kacas” or trash cans, and as I look at them, I realize how wonderful the world is: beautifull and disastrous at the same time.
The trip to Monastir or Bitola is a journey of internal discovery, and even if somebody told me here that writing poetry is naïve and that it only serves to suffer, I will continue to write poetry at my age. Perhaps I'm a poet who wants to see hidden things, because I'm trying hard to see things that can not be seen by anyone. Am I a poet inevitably?
Perhaps because I want to see the light and beauty of this sometimes confusing and dark world, I have observed the beautifully colored red rose in the trash and wrote this poem:
Flowers are created everywhere,
but the most natural and loved ones
are those that are born in junk.
Those that are born artificially in gardens,
that are irrigated everyday and cared for
they are not natural to me,
even though they look attractive
I admire the roses and violets that emerge from the trash.
The light of ethernity: love, heart;
The source of ethernity: heart / betierekotasunaren iturria: bihotza
Cinema and music make me believe the world is beautiful, even with its pains. Controlling emotions, it's hard. I have to, but how could I?