Quetzal
Seating thinking about the silence
Dancing with colours, comes from my tail, 65.
My feathers….stand like royalty and power.
Let me know why am I here: Weltmuseum at Vienna
Breathing with pain and sorrow
Hope you are the face I search
Dark is all I have had
Breathing deep, breathing deep, so I can continue walking!
Not running….not moving more than I could, just because is painful
Miss air, miss sun, miss you
Perhaps one day I meet you again
Meanwhile just recovering for a unyielding Sunset
What is a feather?
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — -
Just a material spectrum, a place where you and me have had always an encounter with hate or love
Just a vehicle where energy is our present, today and no more
Follow instincts, follow intuition make you beautiful every day
What about flying?
Just recover and continue the dramatic Apocalyptic encounter of drama or reincarnation, with a better feather? or with a better thought?
This Labyrinth life is full with gifts, indeed the main target is to be winner….but who many are there, how many thinkers have written advices and fairs judges, finally at worst, we are feathers, forgotten everything, forgotten air, forgotten to breath.
