terça-feira, 9 de abril de 2013


The hot orange light was running through that white endless ground.
Like thick snow that was touched only by natural forms as wind and rain, that uneven surface looked like another planet.
If somewhere up, down, right or left, from where we live, there is a heaven, this is what it must look like.
That linear horizon filled with joyful colour looked alive, several floors of white smudginess.
Far away everything seemed completely still and smooth, a waveless lake of milk.
Like a happy dog meeting sand for the first time, I wanted to throw myself around that infinite clear bed of white unworn sheets.

It doesn't matter how many times I fly,
It doesn't matter how many times my eyes meet the clouds, the rainy days, the dark nights or early mornings.
I will always worship this mysterious beauty we call sky.

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