The small crescent moon in the dark sky tells us a few things, but there is a lot to understand. It makes us understand how people can be interesting even if we are almost completely hidden by a shadow, makes us understand that its form although we can not see it all in its fullness, the rest is behind a bit 'dark.
Saturday, January 8
remained on the Christmas tree lights, shine not for long. They know their time is up, and will have to return to their silence for another 11 months or more. Do not complain, they can not. Their time is and they know all they can do has a beginning and an end, do not pretend to keep us company too much. In doing so we will stay with a smile, knowing that if they go from tomorrow we will start to wait for their return.
We will again do the countdown to get to Christmas, to get to the day when we believe that all our desires have the right to be heard. Then it is not always the case, but the hope is that makes everything different.
pulls cold outside air, you cut the skin. Walking against the wind is a real fighter and a metaphor: it puts you to the test and is often not the best solution. Other times, however, is the only one to reach the objective, once achieved has a different flavor, a hard-earned victory.
The wind is breaking into things, make noise. It seems that knock on the door, as if he wanted to enter. Its power is in vain, however: the only thing that able to move the snow crystals are then going to rest somewhere else.
We will again do the countdown to get to Christmas, to get to the day when we believe that all our desires have the right to be heard. Then it is not always the case, but the hope is that makes everything different.
pulls cold outside air, you cut the skin. Walking against the wind is a real fighter and a metaphor: it puts you to the test and is often not the best solution. Other times, however, is the only one to reach the objective, once achieved has a different flavor, a hard-earned victory.
The wind is breaking into things, make noise. It seems that knock on the door, as if he wanted to enter. Its power is in vain, however: the only thing that able to move the snow crystals are then going to rest somewhere else.
The rest that reigns around us, silence is copyright. Fill it or not, it will be our choice.
Matthew.
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