Dear Friend of my Heart,
As you wander these unpaved paths, soaked to the bones in the ethereal rain of all your dreams and aspirations, close your eyes. Listen to the light falling on your skin. The light breaks into a chromatic splash of exuberance and you are sinking deep in the pool of all colors, wild colors. The colors you see are everything that is you and everything that is free.
Like a gurgling stream a child springs and flows down a mountainous slope. Her breaths accompanied by outbreaks of joyous shrieks, she is like a mountain goat. The mother out of deep concern calls out to her child, to stop this dangerous game. What if she falls! The child who was lost in wonder, hears the cries of her mother and stops… a blunder! She falls! The mother rushes to her child and nurses her wounds, she sees the truth in her fears, she washes them with her tears, and tends to them with love and tender care. Over their pain she asks her never to run down the slope again.
But ma, said the little girl, do you think I would still rudely fall if you did not fearfully call out to me to stop so forcefully?
What if dear mother you let the mountain teach your child, and even if she falls, you help her stand… and when the path is uphill, you remind her of the grassland shrouded in the Shepard’s gaze, who watches over his cows and sheep, accompanied by his canine keep… where the sky in the night is so gloriously full, her heart would take her towards the pull of life’s dreamy gravity… have faith, dear mother…
The afternoon found me in their company again. Here winter inspires those dormant seeds… and my little neighbors in their little forest move around in their own little worlds…
I hope you flow down the mountain like a boundless gurgling stream, and then you climb up again, your eyes full of your choicest dream.
Eager to hear from you.