give

Give to receive
it leaves a trace
of goodness on your face
and it brings peace;
you'll become rich
the more you give;
the more you run
the farther you will be reach;
the stronger you'll have become
the more gates you'l open
with your tired
generous hand
always reaching out
for a friend in need
because it can.
is it a paradox?
the more you give
the more will you receive.

be happy

open your eyes each morning
and look straight at me
be happy that you are here
as much as I am I am happy
because you came to be
such a nice person
such a good friend;
I do not know what
would I do in the end
if it were not for you
to brigthen my day,
to take me for walks
even if I have to wait
always too long
for you to return.
I may be but a dog
but I prefer people to call
me - my man's best friend.

if

if life is
what I think it is;
if joy does not
always mean comfort;
i do not mind
sleeping for once;
under the sky;
just to awake
to the bright light;
just to see
who had gathered
onto the same beach but me;
I do not mind
mingling with people others may blame;
I do not care if they voted the same.

What I do care is to open my eyes
and exercise the difficult act
of opening one's soul
sometimes my own
as a present to you,
sometimes delicately yours
as a present to me;
and sometimes, more and more rarely
the soul of strangers
if he decides that it needs to bloom
or to burn or to cry in front of our eyes.

Am I to judge or am I to help?
Am I to hurt for an unknown
but possible friend,
and most important of all
will I be given the chance
to understand
you?
only if you let me to.

so would you care
to share with me
the open air for a day
a warm cofee
on a cold day
on a street;
will you dare
to be yourself
to be humble and ready to taste
how it is like to be different
my friend?

cold

This cold
as mild as one can claim
it is
is sneaking to my skin
fast
like a layar of discomfort
close
to driving me mad.

Between my boots
and my socks
between my jacket
and my sweater
between my gloves
and my sleeves
sneaking in
like a thief
an univited guest
we forget about
as soon as snow falls
and we can play
snow angels
and build snow men
and women and children;
this is when we do not care
we do not mind
and for a day
we do not long
for spring.

wanderers

http://gallery.photo.net/photo/4025496-lg.jpg
photo credits

can you guess, can you think
where do they come from?
and where will they go?
where from they bring

the grains of salt in the wind
the smell of shells
becoming fine sand,
under the sun and the wave?

do they bring joy to you
and the thought of your feet
stepping lightly
on a beach?

or do they bring fear
of the darkness under the wave,
or perhaps of the height
when you are on top of the crest

a crest that is changing
position and shape
that from green
will turn purple at sunset

that is spliced by orange
and touches of other colors;
or are you mistifyed
by its colors

by the electric blue
that keeps in balance the day
when it gets ready to fall
over the edge of night;

are you strong enough to rest
even if the earth is changing.
will you shed all fears
when the day returns

when the waves dress
in a light blue dress
or a deep ink color
under the sky

under the sun that shines
and shrinks all problems
for a while, to let us glorify
the light of the day.

new breath

The year has started
with a new breath
of cold air and a vision
of clear blue water ;
the mountains
have covered themselves
in snow which stands
nearly immaculate,
here and there dotted
by the feet of red cardinals
and blue jays.
A rabbit jumps softly
over the ground in search
for the remains
of the vegetable garden;
the squirels stop for a second
from their bussines
and try to remember
where they had burried
my daffodil bulbs,
while I look forward
to the end of the day
to read sleepily a story
with old gnomes to
a fresh breathed child.