My model in life is a set of little things that I think are worthwhile to follow, so that finally we can reach the inner silence that we all need, and when it is lacking, we feel a void or an inner struggle as we grind.
I admire the solemn flight of butterflies that spend one day on the ground. I cherish every second, grappling with grace, on a strip of wind, indulged in an indescribable beauty, and they only have one day; no more.
I see ... that little boy with your eyes in which you lose, a great deal of thoughts, questions that await your answer. I see him now, and give him a toy to another child, sarman. Looking at her, she gives a mad feeling of joy, wonder, love; sentiment consumed in a second, maybe, but that fraction of time will last forever in the pure hearts of the two.
He stumbled ... when I see a pair of white-haired men, the mark of the time that's passed; holding his hand, walking shyly on the first day, sures on his lips and shaking in his heart. She sits on a bench, looks cute, remembers. I calm down watching them. "How beautiful ..." - I say. It illuminates my image of life.
At night, I watch the moon. What a joke! And when I think, "Lord, I see it all!" I open my heart before it: I smile, cry. It's a model, maybe. She is patient, steady; always there.
The moon, and I'm letting my dreams come true.
A smile, a vibration, a song of joy, a good deed.
The beauty of small things.
