The morning awakens this daring feeling of discovering the unknown, to write myself into unexplored lands and find out the secrets of my imagination and the hidden voices of my words.
These verbs tingle in my fingers. They want as much freedom as I do, so years ago, under an age bound by the laws of wonder, we made a deal — we would gain our freedom together. And since then, we haven’t been able to live separate lives.
The dawn slowly cracks over the horizon, like a gift; it’s a new day. I can smell it in the fresh air, I can hear it in the world songs. Even the peoples are different; they hum with new chats.
My visions take on new forms which I can barely discribe. I feel a rush to jump into these lines, chasing a fantasy transformed into a feeling. It wants to talk about the present, this moment, this morning; it’s now fusing the illusion of the future with the picture of the past into a new experience — it’s the experience of a daydream.
Yes, I can hear it — the morning has arrived; it’s a new day. It’s almost like a song, a silent melody that beats inside the soul, and can only beat there, making it real.