eclectic children I

When we are children,we live in a time when every of our senses
Welcomes life with doors wide open,even though we are not aware
Of course we have our family,our friends,all of this humanity
Surrounding and protecting us. But we choose to go alone, into a secret place
known only to ourselves: be it a stark shed,some hospitable busches,or a nook and crany
Of the house we live in.

This is where we chose to openourselves to this world:
our own world,the one that is welcoming us.
This where,for hours on end,we observe insects who reveal their
Way of live to us. The wind gently blowing,sun beams,clouds racing
across the sky,of this suggest the powers that are asleep somewher
This is where,in our miniature theatre,we can catch the play of what is promised to us.

Every day,every single moment we spend in contemplation of the spectacle
Of the beginning of life,around us and with us; will stay for us
Forever in the years to come

And then as the sun stars to set,in the strong sour smell of the grass
we have been running on orwith the cold contact of an old cobblestone
We hear familiar voice calling for us to come; we’ll continue
Our adventure tomorow.

Other experiences will join these,and push our first sensation deeper
and deeper into our collective memory,the one that can hold all souvenirs and never become to full.