Pulses that lead to impulses. Bold impulses.
One from hundreds of leaves has stolen my attention: the heart of the tree. I could have kept it for myself but I let it free in the confusion of the Wind watching its slow leaving.
Desiring the desire of the desire.
Her petals freezes when the lips of the Earth have uncertain directions. Frozen in summer, fall, even spring. Melted in the arms of winter. (for those who didn’t see it) I recommend my beautiful Snowflake (in the summer).
To love only the Sun, when Rain means abundance, wouldn’t be mistaken?
Harmony between minds, seasons.
September 8, 5:30 in the morning. The Sea is singing. I will not leave the shore.
They used to touch me.
My flower did open and then so beautifully she died.
We don’t belong to anyone and no one belongs to us, I said lately to myself.