I always thought,
and took it for granted,
that wanting to be in the future
was the antithesis of being in the present,
that it was a form of escapism,
a cousin of reliving the past
a thousand times in the head,
as if it were the best movie ever made,
a baseless promise we give ourselves
based on the baseless inevitability
that what comes next must be better,
a kind-hearted lie
that always ignores
that the happiest days
of this life
have not been today, yesterday, and the day before
in that order, respectively.
Being as such,
being so happy with life,
seeing all the colors that decorate the world,
viewing the world through its
range of intense colors,
finding peace and happiness
within myself,
savoring the rhythm with no rush,
how can it be that I want it to be today
and next Saturday
simultaneously,
as if the laws of nature
meant nothing?
I want it to be today,
the day is incredible
the estuary in front of me
blesses me with its green hues,
breakfast tastes like life itself,
I want it to be today,
and at the same time,
I want that future to arrive,
I want it to be Saturday, February 4th,
for there is something there and then that is not here today,
and that uncertainty brightens me even more,
for the first time,
I want the future to come,
not out of anxiety,
nor lack of gratitude,
but because the future holds your smile,
which takes my breath away about ten times a day,
because in the future
I will have everything I have now
* the same capacity to be happy
for who I am –
and also because you will be there
in one way or another
with even more vivid joy,
with a love that is about to arrive,
unasked for,
without us even needing it.
The future comes with your name
in beautiful letters imprinted
on the flowers of today,
the beat of the drum
and the four strings
that your fingers grace,
because today,
the future is nothing more
than the direct and clear extension
of the pleasure of life
that I feel today.