Seeing Iasi through your eyes
seeing it again in a festival of colors
Seeing Iasi through your eyes would be a journey I would partake.
Seeing Iasi through your eyes
seeing it again in a festival of colors
Seeing Iasi through your eyes would be a journey I would partake.
There was once in the most known story in the world 12 men and many woman, who looked after a vulnerable young man.
A man of truth and maybe of madness. A man who called himself the Son of God. Not the God of lighting, or the Son of darkness, but the Son of the one and only God, the God that the Hebrews portrayed, the God that only the ones that will be called Christians saw.
Between the 12th there was a sinner, there was a traitor and there was one that thought he had the faith of the kings of Jerusalem, but he was still full of fear, a person with doubts and failures. He sang the song of treason before the third rooster sang his morning song.
His name was Petru. The one Pavel looked after.
I waited for you
for your presence
for your smile
for your voice and for your stories
I could not connect to anyone else
In any way.
Then suddenly a glimpse of reality
nothingness has disappeared into the veil of the afternoon in
waiting.
The moon reminds me to come out and play.
Waiting needs to be done with as it is for another type of woman.