At the evening hour when silence falls over a day that has barely gone to sleep, I sat like this in vain with my thoughts, what is love?
A sense of completion or possession?
So many new idylls to set in the evening for reasons as if pre-created by others?
A sweet memory of those who passed when love was a song, when sweet notes were lined up on guitar strings with rhythms as if sealed by love and purity.
At the time when the lover was a partner on the road of life and not an object to be possessed until the "next stop".
At that time, dreamers of poetry, of love and humanity were also born, at that time they lived values that today are "found" among the meanings and connotations of many "fishermen's nets", who want the human to be their model how to write a poem.
Looking for it without acquiring it, but only using it, because the world of great poets was looking for rhythms of harmony in order to combine them into "the feather of a masterful bird" to obtain a melody.
Still seeking to understand a harmony between an object and humanity, I kept gathering one joy after another in a flower to bring comfort in my long wandering.
It's been years since I yearn, to be myself not an object, what between dreaming and present, among beautiful memories to find a ray of light and hope for the coming day.
Step by step, an bashful cricket tries to bow his violin, but "the poor guy" is also amazed, because news came to him about products made from the flour of a bunch of crickets that were playing in other places.
He, Cri-Cri with his violin, I with my sweet sweet memories as if we made a wandering duet where a human is looking for humanity and the cricket the friendship of his brethren.
 |
| Cricket Cri-Cri |
A simple song from a childhood moment when people, like me also, knew that crickets singing at "the violin" and a grasshopper is "an athlete".
It is evening and the sky is clear, that Cri-Cri took his violin bow and went to other houses to sing his troubadour vigorous songs, the love with which, nature endowed him.
He left me with my thoughts now, like from a memory, of music with love lyrics, I wandered to the cricket's cri-cri strings and, look, I rejoiced with him once, reminding me of times when love was the way of life and not just hangover.
Human is a story of life and love, of dreams and keading when he is looking for a life partner on the road and not to be an object or just a stop.
Here my evening clock turning to night and tomorrow again is a day to wait for the cri-cri or, maybe a partner on the road in life and not just a stopover of wandering.
Love is a mighty knight, which comes with friendship, with love and joy, with understanding and with respect when it is in harmony.
Maybe that's why at the time of the great poets rivers of notes flowed, guitars harmonized and love was the theme of yesterday, today, tomorrow and the day after.
In those days the rest stops were, just roads together on the path of life and humanity.
Article written by:
Liliana Ștefania
https://lilianastefany.blogspot.com/2023/05/ginger-flower-story.html
https://lilianastefany.blogspot.com/2023/05/searching-for-butterfly-strawberry.html
https://lilianastefany.blogspot.com/2023/05/Passion-fruit-flower-color-dance.html
https://lilianastefany.blogspot.com/2023/05/apus-de-soare-aproape-de-tara-soarelui.html
https://lilianastefany.blogspot.com/2021/10/matoa-fairy-tale-flowers.html
Comentarii
Trimiteți un comentariu