Christmas past, I remember the sounds of innocent laughter from a time buried by abundant memories of accomplishments and perils of souls overwhelmed by the silent movement of aging aromatic evergreens. Heart captivating snowflakes return every year to tell the story of the arrival describing a mother’s subtle weeping sounds contemplating the face of a brand new life struggling to see the first glimpses of earthly light, and the father’s pride rapidly seeping through his bruised heart like a courageous gladiator celebrating victory after slaying a vicious giant called despair. A humble dwelling filled with songs of praise and exclamations of awe that always proceed the birth of a new smile, natural and innocent just like gentle symmetric ripples on the surface of a solitary lake as it receives the tears of joy from the rainbow whispering rain. What will the life of the child be like in such dry and unforgiving place called the land of men his guardians wondered, but his upcoming ceremonial dance had already been sketched and rehearsed to perfection until its completion at a place and an hour long ago reserved, long and anxiously awaited. - Marcello Monterrosa -
Posted on: Thu, 11 Dec 2014 15:06:59 +0000