The wind is whistling continuously, it is getting darker & darker despite the full moon, & that distant voice incenssantlt, my mother's voice, reaching my ears endlessy wishing me the best. Mother oh Mother, I know from very young your wishes for me & promess i shall do the best not to see you crying..
The wind continues and on the opposite wall of the house the shadows of trees play for me cinema musics..
It seems that somewhere people are celebrating although they are not houses around the garden or human beings. I can listen the guirars & other laughters which are not nearly. May be far away, among the ashes of Heaven I wonder is LONELINESS the same all over the worlds?
vendredi 12 décembre 2008
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