photo: Christchurch earthquake, 2011, a few hundred meters from where I was living.
and when everything would go wrong
we would get up at night
we would turn to the sky
we would speak to the angels
we would ask for the sun
we would not know how to pray
but we would join our hands
it would only be necessary
to wish ourselves well.
photo: the evocative power of images, Split Apple Rock, the sky was too beautiful to sleep
We were looking at old photos, a tinge of melancholy, nostalgia, bursts of laughter, we remembered what lay behind the smiles frozen on the glossy paper, we saw the light and time slipping away before our eyes, among the delicate leaves that spoke of summer.
photo : Pohara, cloud formation often found in this part of the world, so artistically placed, every time.
mirror, mirror,
tell me if
a better reflection
than that of clouds
against a blue sky
does exist
photo : a sky and some clouds
at this time of year
clouds take their place in the sky
for the cold season
Photo: Marahau, Windy Gardens, Abel Tasman. The ferns are protective in this part of the world. They speak with the wind, they shade from the sun, just enough.
If I were a roof,
I would be of foliage
and I would for sure live
where it doesn’t rain too much.
I would let some sky
and light through
and I would cast shadows
on the warm sand.
