Seventh of May.
A day of spring - a day of birth. A Sunday, I was born on a Sunday. The day of completion and the day of rest. A day full of sunshine. A day of forgiving for the sake of love. A day of laughter and tears. A day of loving. A new day. A day; our day.
I saw two frogs in a small pond.
I saw two butterflies at the side of a forest.
I saw two squirrels on a high branch.
I saw a heart that I wanted, and gave mine away.
*
The silence of a summer evening is breathtaking. Much like the silence of a winter day. Though in late spring it has more than one tone... The awoken nature accompanies it. Together they play an animate symphony, so fragile, yet deafening in its power to vanquish the sounds of your constructed life. A heartbeat's duration of listening to that quaint music, and you will never feel free again, having heard where real freedom is. There you stand, fiddling around in your comfy prefabricated house, believing this is the world. Sacrificing your life for something you think to be true and right. Possibly never stepping out into reality. The silence you know is a metallic sound... The sound of loneliness in a world that is open 24/7. Emptiness. Amid the modern facilities inside your cube of walls, floors and a roof. Disconnected when the number of your connection devices exceeds the number of your contacts. Stare at the wall. Stare at the quiet, lifeless wall until you realize your cube has windows. And dear Lord, your cube has doors. For Heaven's sake, human - your cube is in the middle of life and you lock yourself inside. You may hear the elemental fury of wind in the hollow materials of your safe structure... But as long as you cover your ears from the storm your head will be full of noise. You are restless inside. Life in the cube is not the life you wanted, nor the life you will ever be satisfied with. Keep staring at the wall in your royal solitude; the symphony is playing with or without you. You hear steely sounds from a world that knows no such hardness, echoes much colder than their origin. And you still can't touch the mist and the dew shall never sate your thirst, the moon does not light your path and the silence won't make you hear... Use your wings, human, and don't ask what wings. Just close your eyes and flap them.
I saw two frogs in a small pond.
I saw two butterflies at the side of a forest.
I saw two squirrels on a high branch.
I saw a heart that I wanted, and gave mine away.
*
The silence of a summer evening is breathtaking. Much like the silence of a winter day. Though in late spring it has more than one tone... The awoken nature accompanies it. Together they play an animate symphony, so fragile, yet deafening in its power to vanquish the sounds of your constructed life. A heartbeat's duration of listening to that quaint music, and you will never feel free again, having heard where real freedom is. There you stand, fiddling around in your comfy prefabricated house, believing this is the world. Sacrificing your life for something you think to be true and right. Possibly never stepping out into reality. The silence you know is a metallic sound... The sound of loneliness in a world that is open 24/7. Emptiness. Amid the modern facilities inside your cube of walls, floors and a roof. Disconnected when the number of your connection devices exceeds the number of your contacts. Stare at the wall. Stare at the quiet, lifeless wall until you realize your cube has windows. And dear Lord, your cube has doors. For Heaven's sake, human - your cube is in the middle of life and you lock yourself inside. You may hear the elemental fury of wind in the hollow materials of your safe structure... But as long as you cover your ears from the storm your head will be full of noise. You are restless inside. Life in the cube is not the life you wanted, nor the life you will ever be satisfied with. Keep staring at the wall in your royal solitude; the symphony is playing with or without you. You hear steely sounds from a world that knows no such hardness, echoes much colder than their origin. And you still can't touch the mist and the dew shall never sate your thirst, the moon does not light your path and the silence won't make you hear... Use your wings, human, and don't ask what wings. Just close your eyes and flap them.