Ever since the day we met, there is something about you, that makes life magical. Don’t ask me how but it is this irresistible and wickedly beautiful spell you cast, that simply makes us happy, whole, and safe.
In all matters of family, true friendship, and love, reside all those that are dearest and nearest to us, as well as the bonds that hold it all together. The tight closeness and indivisible unity of these three existential bonds is one of the most important sources of strength and happiness in our lives.
Conventional wisdom is such, that when you do the wrong thing, eventually, the past catches up with you and holds you accountable. But, there is also the unspoken truth that, when we fail to do in the present what we are supposed to,
If I could touch the stars with my heart, the night darkness would turn into reds of roses and reds of fire. If I could reach the sky with my dreams, the colors and tones of daylight would turn into inspired whites and passionate blues.
As the leaves drop at Poet’s row, I see your eyes sparkle in the hues of the fall. The gentle breeze whistles as the spirit of “The Big Apple” spreads to every corner of the city’s lungs.
Here we are under a star-studded sky, over the moist but warm still sands of an empty beach. Here we are on this magic island, where our story, the one that is only about the two of us, has begun.
There are moments in life that overwhelm us, they seize us right at the gut level, suddenly, we are crumbling inside, without a clue, how to cope with the situation.
The chimney sweep sits on the rooftop of the city moonless night. Stars by the millions gaze like magnificent gatherings in the universe, through luminescent eyes, with infinite shades of white, in full display, just for him.
The gentle breeze tussles freely, those shiny curls of mine. The vast ocean reflects a magnificent canvas drawing to eternity, those incandescent eyes that I belong to, now and forever.
The boy leans forward with his hands on the soil, his legs bent, his feet off the ground except for his tippy-toes. He is ready to bolt like a sprinter. But his head tells a different story. With his neck overextended, tilted to one side, he gazes in the distance. Is it an intense stare?