Mining with Rarejule

I am thinking of you, today, my dear friend Kara! 
As you travel once again to Rochester and face the battle that no one should have to endure, I thought of this poem that I read recently and it spoke to me about your journey.  My friend, Carla, wrote it.  She lives across the ocean in Portugal, and her words speak the language of many. 

Without Time

These days, I look myself in the mirror.
And I see, every trace of time in the territory of tiredness.
Shadow over shadow, every disillusion.
Yet, the inner child who stares at the mirror, remains as alive and kicking, as ever.
And so, as an ongoing chord, this contrast aches.
And so ache the dreams yet unlived, in this finite body that carries me.
Pain, of you I ask only: teach me to dance!
To gather every little piece of me, again, in a single necklace of flowers.
Without time. Without trace. Without yesterday. Without tomorrow.
While there still is the light of a glance.
Truth returned in every mirror.

                                                                        ~ Carla Gouimar