Just like our Blue Planet, it revolves around the Sun, feeding and giving vigor to living beings.
Just as the year completes its shift in 365 days, gifting us with more experiences.
Seasons are reborn in months.
The weeks into days.
Just like the quadrants of clocks, they dance to the beat of milliseconds, minutes, hours.
It is us in relation to the opportunities that present themselves in our lives. Opportunities that can be born and evolve, flowing naturally just like the cycles of nature. Opportunities that die at birth, in the limiting denial of no, in the thought that wakes up killing dreams.
The will even comes light and insistent, latent like the pulse of our instincts, it rises, rises, grows, grows and even bubbles, but fear cowers, pride pushes it down and arrogance crushes it, without giving it a chance to come. if exposed, it dies before it is even felt.
We present ourselves with anguish, with regrets, with sorrows, feeding on illusions, begging for disharmony, dissatisfied we wander through life. Sometimes in a destructive way, unconsciously, we incapacitate ourselves, dying within ourselves, we vampirize our essence, denying to feel and be ourselves in life.
But when the eyes, see; ears hear; the skin feels, warms, cools and shivers in emotions, then yes! We give vent to our souls, feelings bubble up in the moments, and sparks of joy are contagious in laughter, laughter, the new happens in our lives.
Hour, long cycles; hour, constants; time, passengers…
By surrendering to opportunities, we live reality and no longer exist.
In these turns that life takes, we come across different people, different ways of loving, of giving, of sharing moments.
People who mark our stories, just as the hands of the clock do, marking the quadrants of the hours.
People who light up our journeys, feeding our souls, warming living matter.
People who arrive empty, cold as winter, indifferent as autumn, but who bloom like the flowers in the spring of our unconditional love and even when the cycle ends, friendship remains light conquered like a summer vacation.
Temporary people, like the rains in the summer afternoon, sometimes devastating, heavy, constant storms, which leave the damage in the pain of those who revolt, but who tattoo learning, leading us to evolution.
People light as the breeze when they play the grass in the field, composing orchestra in our waking dreams, they do it with their kind eyes, sweet smile, singing choruses of nostalgia in our hearts.
And so, the cycles that life brings us daily are endless.
The life that ends in death. Death that is reborn in eternal life, like gratitude that is born in the soul and dies in the warmth of an embrace, in the firm grip of hands, in prayer, making us all children of the same Father, who gives us grace and infinite blessings and in each day, becoming brothers.
Set the clocks of your destinations.
Be the conductor of the orchestra of your desires, be your friend, the faithful conductor who
hold fast and guide your own life.
