Just like any other given day

On the blank page of life which goes on.

The rain fell during the night rest and the ground was still wet to remind us that life has still been while asleep.

The sun still shone, at the bloom of the new day, to remind us that our problems are not as important as we assume.

And the fireball, once again, raised high up, with all its power, in the incessant cycle of planet earth.

No, the sun will not fade, the clouds will not dry and the river waters will no longer be the same because we demand the world must fall down.

Some days will be good and others not so much.

Each with their baggage, some of them lighter or heavier,

But each one of us with our own baggage in the uninterrupted infinite life walking.

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The wind and the kite


Light wind takes the kite

Loose in the wind

Made out of plastic that slowly rises.

Light the kite

Fly high

Like a cricket

Green in the open air.

High moon,


White and alive.

The moon wanes,


Along the wind

Tortuously blown

The green grass.

Rising wind,

Rising kite,

Rising the plastic,

The boy awaits

He arrives to the moon and comes back

Celebrating the sweetness of life.

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