It was the end of Second World War and
the beginning of other, because the human beings do of the war yours to live.
Of the unforgettable subsequent hunger and your efforts for to mitigate.
Everything in the Universe has the deep love, unforgettable of our mothers.
What interest does have the life without our mother's presence? It is me
difficult to explain like them get with their instincts find food for us not to
let to die of hunger. It is also like them support days without eating because her
body is prepared for that. That suffering that gives hope in the love in the
display our mother, the victory of the love.
The time passes, but our mother's love
stays. Mother's love is only, it is the mystery that invades the Nature, and it
is to stick to sweetly when still newly born and to show us the secret of the
initiation of the sweetness of the words. Mother is a goddess that unmasks us
the rites of the love. Of mother's glance the crowds of feelings that appease
our innocent innovations flow. And of the constant dangers that peep us, the
mother becomes eagle and she spreads their majestic wings and she involves our
body. Everything in our mothers is composed of love, only that we didn't value
him because early we see forced to swim in the human jungle, and here many
rocks are plentiful, we ended for we forget the caresses in such little time in
that we were in the progenitor's of the love protecting arms.
Mother's love is not equaled, being so
pure and touching, he is the conqueror of the love. Mother is the essence, the
hope of the love. Same it blinds, deaf, it changes; she is imposed with
tenacity demonstrating their children that without love the death won't delay.
Mother's love is our oracle.
He/ would take a risk saying,
coloring the ground of the life of the people's world that they try to
leave of the political cry of the days, that the politicians invented. For that
reason, the jacarandas invigorate the coloration of the new days that they
approach. It is that us humans are about always to revolutionize.
And in the creeks the water runs slowly,
it transports, he offers life. Always pursued by insects and birds that
screen while it is day, then, in darkening of the night other lives they
appear, they resume. And the varied vegetation lets to agitate for the wind
that the cycle of the life returns. Everything runs of harmony, to the
subjugation of the Nature, until that somebody biped suddenly it arrives, and
everything loses temper, adulterous.
Image: ebooke.ewebsite.com
Sem comentários:
Enviar um comentário