Moto Ski 71 Capri Track

The pigeon and the hummingbird

graceful, elusive, in his delicate dance, awkward and a bit 'naughty claw his way to another. It took only a moment, a fleeting look, el'intrepido dancer stopped his run, and the thrill of the wings went on, his eyes now seem set in stone. It was music all around them, and the utter emptiness of mind. What ever attracted the attention of the delicate bird that strange to copy?
No questions, no answers, nothing looked more to his mind, if not the charm for insignificant details, such as her sweet eyes, so sad and yet so full of life. How could one be so quiet, so distant from him, so tightly to the land naked, transmit so much energy? Yet fill the air with joy, all of a sudden your joy dance did not seem so much more special, and suddenly calm her wings, to proceed to the low side of that powerful animal.
The pigeon looked doubtfully, that being the timid gestures, strange, beside him, did not recognize his gestures that he had expressed safety dancing. Where was all his grace? Where all its beauty and its energy? It was thus that he began to whirl in the air, and the poor to observe hummingbirds, so, from that sad place called earth that now seemed more familiar.
Tired and bedraggled the bloated pigeon returned after his beautiful event. The weak dancer But now his eyes looked, and found them devoid of expression, did not recognize that flame that shook the heart, and the ground around him began to tremble. Observed hovering in the air for the last time the pigeon, that fascinating to be with his gaze had brought along a path unknown to him, but with a fleeting flutter had brought back to reality.
Their hearts would be forever stuck together but they had to dance away, so that the weak dancer could still feel the air beneath its wings, bird feathers and the charming silver go on to discover the enchanted by his land treasures which reveal that they would not, however, never exceeded the sparkling glow in her heart.

TM

Invitation Rhymes For 3 Yr Old

Small empty of meaning

There comes a time of day when you feel in perfect balance with everything. This is not currently anticipated by something, nothing alerts you to its arrival, and sometimes even fear that you never come, but always arrives, and at some point you feel suddenly alone, he leaves a sense of sadness, fear , of despair, look what next to you, a mere object, a photograph, and see with different eyes, and in that moment you know where six, up to a second you felt the first float in the air, enveloped in a heavy blanket, and barely resisted the effort you had to do to remain standing.

This moment may pass quickly, or persist, making you look differently at your surroundings, making you wonder what was wrong until a minute before, what I missed, I wanted something that now seems so irrelevant?

Then our attention is distracted, the dim light attracts and turns his head away, and come back as before, vanishes the weak sense of stability, collapse all certainties, but what certainty? We have not had no time to question ourselves, what made us happy? What makes us even happier? What we have seen in the vacuum of our eyes, the colors of a garish cover in pure white wall in front of us? Nothing. And 'nothing that accompanies us every day, behind which hides everything, but we do not have the key to achieve it, or do we still get it, or distracted we Thrown at a time in which the joy had taken over, and that wonderful moment lasted a little 'more, into believing it was forever, but that time can come back again, still can last, if only our eyes try looking in the right direction, if they stopped running frantically around us, and simply posassero on our hands, to see what we can do with them, see what we can grasp, and found that it takes very little to do and not let go of our dreams the fate that so far we tested for a few seconds per day, with fear, unfortunately, that did not belong to us.

TM