We swim silence. A word dressed in land. Gone. Every day a little miracle. An unknown force keeps you in the water. It makes hope floats.

You let yourself be. Free to think of it. The acceptance of shortage. Which demystifies the images. Revives the dream. You want to believe in miracles.

Over the sound of hers. A music of yours. It doesn't get old. You can perform it repeatedly. Monotonously beautiful. Like the first time.

Plans in words. Journeys. They dazzle the pictures around you. They hide their ugliness. You travel. Each proposal builds a bridge. The mission. A shining Crown. That calms. Every time you copy with your wars.

The Creation is perfect. To be enjoyed. Nothing is made by accident. Free will. Arms the Ego. Blinds. Brings you against Him. Takes distance to many that are dressed by his name. Him. A modern man. Same as the previous ones. Not yet he learned. To take parts.

In a different era. Voluntarily exiled. A receiver. Of buried values. A guardian. Conquering the truth. Learning. Bearing. To live with it.

Smoke signals. Gray. Scarring randomly. Not looking for a sky. A fire. It burns the shame. She. Is sad giving them birth.

Forgotten anniversaries. Supporting dogmatically. Arguments of advocacy. In a yesterday that denies time.

Pocket magic. One moment is enough. One thought. Lightens. You feel absent. It gave you beauty. It is not getting older. It remains alive. Kept. Valuable. Yours.

A trip. In front of you the end. One moment without another one. The images full of words. That flow the plot. Creator. At your own history. God is the bystander. Forever. You cheek without shame. You have spent soul. Walking with the joy of a believer.

Present. The sound does not seem to be yours. Joy is the echo. It makes you calm. A bell. You perch. Fear of abandonment. Nature. You, undecided, eavesdrop. Fuss is made by the alive ones. You chose.