Grass concert

The young grass is stinging my feet
That enjoy the spontaneous ground
Like small children with no doubts.
They move with the notes
Of crickets and beetles,
Of dark butterflies with big eyes,
And make a personal rhythm
I can only feel.

Music background

Crazy is being afraid
Movements are stopped
And breathing is apnea.
You own it, you run forward,
You write, you decide the coming minute.
Next you choose the music
Playing in the back of your actions
And That soundtrack will not leave you
until your mission is complete.

%d bloggers like this: