It begins with a season of feeling. The leaves are falling, as if jasmines were dying high up there. Each leaf falls. This hand here is falling. And look at the other one. It’s in them all. And yet there is Someone, whose hands infinitely calm, holding up all this falling.
‘Till we meet again. I wish you well.
Blank pages ready to be written and colored with your warmth orange and yellow..
Hello, life. Surprise me.