(Loosely based on the book "Three Horses" by E. De Luca)
Every so often I do: sit by the river flow and I listen, always the same yet again to every moment that passes.
I close my eyes and let the sun caress leave this world and I am grateful in my heart to him that every day doing what I do, to give life and warmth to the hearts of everyone, without distinction, without trial that divide.
Listening from the heart let my words just a moment ago to me by a friend, who then was that when We are bound together with a rope which is paraded up and smooth gray stones, winning ourselves our dark souls that we pulled down, and instead trying to find out the sun over the smudge of steam in the sky.
A friend with him if this is something that remains alive, and to me this remains hidden and protected me, and he is a friend.
There is much talk, we are rarely exchanged a few words, written or read from a book that puts the other in public, yet, the heart beats and the other feels.
Says he: "I detachment from what I am when I learn to deal with otherwise the same life." He says this because he has actually done, not just words thrown to the air, the water's edge and I think back on this, and I see me, and my same life that does not repeat the past as a lap.
I disconnected. Now I know.
Thanks friend, telling me whispered!
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