And the gods laying on sand beach




 

“God said”, told the old man sat along beach in a day of cold summer. “What said the Lord?” Others asked in follow up this. In this confusion of everyone takes the word, asking all the time continuously. Those whom said that “God said” in an impetuous scream: “Forget, it is enough, I did not say anything.”  The silence ate the wind, until that a man posed behind them, manifested: “Who he thinks is he? In my election I do not want problems.” And the gods wrote on sand beach.

I am someone who came from a place that never was. River water, calm lakes, waterfalls, edges where bushes and trees grow, the open field, the sky reflected in my hands in the trembling mirror of the river, the waits I am, this man lying in the river in the middle of autumn of my existence, loves his children, he likes to be alone, and he has a great company. I leave out the conceptual groups that put their finger on the face and follow fashion. I try not to be like that. In this boat, I am also the water where I sail. I take the sky with me, the fields, the flowers, and the fragrant herbs all my mornings. I am a being of the dawn. The scandal of nature in the voice of a bird, the incessant hum of the bells that insects make. I look like it, but I am not afraid of anything. I do not think I ever was. Indeed, my father, especially my mother, sweetly led me to read and write. I am always primary; I am still learning to read and write, row, and let the boat go safely. pmnt

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