Bridges that
join the sea and the sky in each of us in order that our dreams are only one.
Bridges
that are stretched lengthways and widthways between our dreams in the high or
in the bottom it arrives as lush and green foliage that the same wind moves,
below, as interlaced roots that embrace each other in the only union.
Stretching
bridges for my dream does not separate of your one and the land on having
turned wakes up of the shaded lethargy in which it is immersed.
Stretching
bridges, the embraces will become warms, the most tender words, shortening
secret ways to be more close and all the thirst of the world, of each of us it
will go out as a small breath of love.
Bridging will not drown sorrows, griefs, is
transmuted into joys, laughter, endless
pleasures.
Stretching
bridges the smiles will become more luminous and clear, the bows will become
closer and since in a great storm the tree of the life will shake even the most
secret fibbers of his roots and will make us feel that we all from the sky and
the land joined will love ourselves without discords, not even displeasures.
Always I
will stretch bridges, long, narrow, small, of wood, of bronze, of crystal but all in
order that we meet some others, in his beginning and in his ends in order that
in the land indestructible bridges are constructed by real and felt words, to
shorten distances and this way a dawn manages to construct bountiful land,
where all us fell close and dear.
Stretching
bridges for the lands of vergel are fulfilled with high rocky places, of fields
of flowers, of close hands, of connected fingers, of long sweetness of to live.