Campfire night. The air intoxicates. What draws us and tempts us to stay longer, a little longer? Is it nostalgia? An ancient feeling. Ancient air. Ancient flame.
Sehnsucht.
It is here in the wind, the colours on the water, the frogs, the embers sparking, swirling, flying higher and higher in an eternal circle up to heaven itself, incense to God. Our spirits dance up with them, soaring, releasing us from the world into reality.
Check the time, time to go.
Please, please, please don't go.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment