whirling on my hands,
bonding on my winter gloves..
The scent of the forgotten flowers,
colors bare in the cold morning sun..
I tie my scarf tight and I pull my gloves to the beginning of my hand palms..
I let my breath discover the cold clouds in the air..
I hear the sweet melodies, the rustle of the pine trees
and I wonder why all of this could be?
The peaceful morning sun who let my doubts sink away.
The love, spreading through all of our hearts,
together beating the same warmth,
together singing of the same peace..
My fingers are sliding over my scarf,
now suddenly coloring red instead of the grey world where I was a prisoner..
This new world seems so fragile and yet so trustful,
laying behind a wall of secrecy..
I hear my heart beating with the sound from the falling snow,
filling the blanket with new snow..
Now I know I’m not a prisoner anymore,
but I’m a free colour dancing in the lights from the houses on the hill, at night.
Like a fluttering heart discovering a new world, I will never ever forget…