That we call life...the sun over the trees that creates interesting shapes and contrast of darkness and light...loving the rain that creates ponds here and there and mud under our feet...loving the dust in a dry summer, hiking in the woods, in a remote unknown trail in the middle of nowhere...loving skipping rocks in the river and watching the rippling effect over the water...or over the iced lake and listening to the outrageous sound that replicates an echo over and over again...
Loving the laugh of a child, the amaze on his eyes when discovering something new...the admiration he expresses for his/her parent... loving the pain that a rose inflicts on the hand that cuts it...because that red liquid reminds you that yes, you are alive, you have eyes to admire the rose, you have hands to touch it, and there is warm, red, living blood on your veins. You are a living being!
Bilingual Blog about poetry, short stories and some random pondering about life, culture and love as I understand it.
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Breaking Water
Motherhood is like that winter storm When everything comes to a halt And no one knows what to expect And things are done, when they are don...
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Listen, just listen to the hours They are trying to tell you something...
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To the music...the sensous rythm...the words wrotten by an excentric poet...it brings so many memories...of family reunions...special times ...
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Listen to the silence That speaks about the goodbye That we never said... Listen to the footsteps That sneak into our souls And scare t...
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