Ignorantly wandering through the dark forest in search of a clearing from which I can see the bright star-stained night sky, to see a glimpse of the sky and thus to see the infinity of the cosmos and its existence. In the hope of creating this miracle I acquired a starglass, but it was too often cloudy, or psychologically and physically too heavy to go out. Moreover, under the pressure of feeling being watched and watched, it has only been three times managed to observe the light points in the dark firmament, from Mother Earth, who holds me firmly in her grasp, as I travel through the universe.
No way up, back home, but on the contrary a descent into the pits of my presence here, in a vain quest to find my dear soul, which it seems to me, an eternity ago, has fallen away from me. Often despondent I wander around on this planet which God seems to have been forsaken for a long time. Then again I fall into a pitch black abyss or am overwhelmed by an untimely all-clearing heavy sleep over my books asleep.
Where is the path between those roses filled with thorns to the pinnacle of bliss? Once, a long time ago as a young man, I was daily, tireless, without sleeping, I was focused on this apogee, which seemed to me at that time, still to be achieved in this life. Unfortunately, it was different. During my climb on the mountain without top I lost magical beam, never to find my way back.
Where has that love gone, the sweet smell of flowers in the spring sun, the honey that was my daily comforting diet and which pushed me to higher thoughts and vibrations as if I was a cabbage white that swirled from flower to flower, without having to account for or be able to give me any account of why.
Occasionally, I think with a sometimes melancholy but often hopeful desire, of this clear inspiring revelation, which presented itself that night as I sat down along that broad river and scattered the clouds and the moon lighted the water exuberantly. For a short time, I now take courage and energy to swim further than one direction and then another until the next inevitable obstacle rises. Until that moment in the delusion that a redeeming catharsis will pour on me like a violent hot waterfall, which will completely wash me clean and light like a feather, so that the wind will blow me up to the highest point of the zenith. Unfortunately, the wind blows around without purpose and messes with my words.
Once, however, I will manage to rise to greater heights and hover the earthly below me, so I will hold.
