Ballad

They are six in the afternoon: my bike rests in a corner. I’ve spent the last few days locked in this room, building a space, a shelter for me and for my soul. Now, after many hours of work, I contemplate the library where lie my books, the wooden table, the light that enlightens me, lectern handmade, pen, notebooks, the Chair that I’ve borrowed the lounge, the Cabinet and the Cabinet where I keep, as if it were a treasure chest, things that I use. I’ve ridden these furniture slowly, very carefully; putting all my soul in the process, as a craftsman, and am now satisfied. I have finished. This room will be much more than these four walls.

This room shall be from now my Kingdom and world: a place where passionate me, create and progress; the fortress from which will fight for everything what in what I believe. I look out the window: a black, shiny, bird has landed in the tree which is just in front, and my soul rejoices and runs a dance with the bird, the tree and the wind. From my desk the sky is a Blue space of beautiful emptiness. For a moment the world rests in the absolute perfection of a calm that know to eternity. Amiga bicycle; from this table to see fall rain and snow settle, I behold daybreak and see out the stars, I will go until the end of the winter and see return the new spring. I atravesare stations of this magical and mysterious universe in which live and when you arrive at the end of all creation, I’ll be back there full of experiences, with everything that has managed to bring in my trip.

Something that perhaps serve to others. My bike is smiling. The evening farewell with his best ray of light and night covers the sky. Slowly, as a serene blessing comes the darkness. The bird is gone and the tree seems a sleeping animal. I breathe the silence of this journey that ends and evoking that phrase that said: a man is as large as it is your ideal, your project, his desire, his hope, his plan.