there was water on the bridge that day.
when leaving the bridge the water was seen.
that has been found over and over
and it will soften your heart again.
do not allow the bridge to be your country.
your land is supposed to be home.
establish firmly your feet on the water,
let the leaves become hair to your soul,
dive into your kind heart
and once again
do not make of the bridge
nothing but what it is supposed to be:
a fleeting moment,
a crossing path
towards
yourself.
Nenhum comentário:
Postar um comentário