Deborah.
Deborah.
Sitting here, I hear the voice of dawn inviting me to smile.
In this moment of joy, where my laughter reflects our yesterday printed in the photo of the past, your smile is visibly beautiful.
It's a true horizon guiding me, not contemplating it, it's getting lost in daily sadness, it's not accepting that it's part of me, even though it's distant, moving away from it, is killing the best in me.
I hear her talk about the sadness that plagues her nights, about the lack of the prodigal son who made her so affectionate, about choices, and the choices she made to give herself without measure.
I hear it...
Once...
Two...
For weeks on end, with more criteria now before this dawn, this dawn of white clouds and a clear blue, of birds flying over the fields of abundant plantations like the hope in the interior eyes of these, who, in the simplicity of the days, wait for a new day to come. dream.
- Losses are part of our life.
We just have to look more cheerfully, to realize that not everything is loss, not everything expresses sadness, after all, where sadness imposes its rhythm, joy reigns.
You have me.
You know that.
You understand better than anyone, that I'm not the people I wish I had around, however, there's still a safe haven in me.
I am here!
Dock your ship, walk along the white sands of the cove, take shelter under the straws lying on the ground, taste the native fruits around this island, and you will realize that the island, although small, is so wide that there will be no place for storms. sudden, there will be no tsunamis destroying everything in their path, because, even if the weather close to nature brings such misfortunes, we will find a way to transform them just into a rainy day with waves like the March tides, where the absence will be a mere time provincial of any day, but that, with wisdom, we will spend with pomp... You are not alone, know that!
I love you...
Nota.
Amanhã postarei a versão no português.
Text: Deborah.
Author: Osvaldo Rocha Jr.
Date: 11/20/2024 at 10:40