And so, on tiptoe, he's gone well this year.
He's gone like a gentleman who enters for the first time in a house sconusciuta and that at the time of greeting, leave a tribute Wearing the smell of that dwelling.
With the cylinder head and a bow unexpected.
He left with his questions unanswered, with his desperate love and those just born with the achievements and those ever dreamed of, with her and chased her moments of waiting, with its joys and its despair.
He's gone in for him who was born or died, for those who loved and those who declined to do so, for those who are sick and for those who are healed, and the dreamer for those who have forgotten what it means to do so, who killed and those who gave his life for those who stole and who paid with their lives to the freedom of others, who sang and who has remained silent, for who was wrong and those who decided not to commit the same mistakes more, for those who have danced and for those who continue to do so in the heart without using your legs for those who believed and those who are afraid to do so, for those who said their lives and those who refused to listen to those who have heard and for those who have only heard, for those who have surprised and who was surprised.
He left, closing the door, leaving the trail of a scent that will hear him forever.
"There are things that fly: birds, hours, and hornets. But those do not care. And then there are the things that remain: the pain, the profile of a mountain, the 'eternal' - Emily Dickinson wrote.
I would add hope.
being born every day, every day to love, to heal every day, every day to dream, to grow every day to give thanks every day to give their lives every day, every day to sing, to give freedom every day, every day to dance, to tell every day to listen to every day, every day will remark.
The hope that a girl of 15 years finally rest in peace, and another of 13 can, happy to be back home.
hope that even if the earth shakes, the man should be able to build secure foundations and that it is the heart to quiver instead, is able to not destroy it to rubble.
The hope of a culture that must not die and a beauty that can not disappear.
The hope for a safe journey, which, despite the storms, will be able to conduct its destination.
The hope of a living reality and not a reality that appears.
hope to always keep the hope of change.
auguratelo So really, this new year.
But these two words syllables are pronounced habit, but I do believe.
As if your "new year" be a lucky charm for those who receive an amulet that will never forget to bring with them and that even if they did, go back and take it back, how does a person who lives alone with her house keys.
Because we wish to say: I hope the best for you. And we really believe.
We need to know that there is anyone in the world, at least one, that believes in us.
Then tell "good year."
Shout, sussuratelo, write, type it, disegnatelo, ballatelo, Sing, gesticolatelo, give it.
dettatelo But with the heart that can really be a new beginning.
From any perspective you are, you know, "One sees clearly that with the heart."
's why I want to hope for.
Why you always start from the heart.
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