In the moss.... that grew covering to the trunk, inhabited the old green guy, that there, seen front, because of profile, she was a beautiful young woman who innocent watches towards the mountains of there far… where the sun sets, each afternoon. That, I believed to see…because in you, everything hoards of ancestral power…, primitive, noble and fertile… you show your generosity,…it is your creation… sprinkled with stones…vegetal world, cracked when the creatures show up.You are… multicolor days, gray crushes, translucent target strained between the trees leaves… together, long, perfect sun rays….hidden, scattered,… hipnotic vortices… relaxing passage of time. In you, the nights are offered long… exists the doing of the freedom in any dawn… transparent veils defolding themselves in shocks that let glimpse… showing everything otherwise… the feeling is surprised before your mysteries… extasis before as much splendor, sublimates in respect embraces to you in gratefulness….shouting in a reclamation your demand, to follow keeping us firm on you, requesting, what you have always wanted… a gesture of unity, towards you.
Mother Earth
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