I wish you could warm me now , that you could hold me through the winter, until the spring is here again and I wake up. Within me sings a song since I was young, a song that sounds like summer, which sounds like balmy breezes, which sounds like life itself. Here in Sweden I slumber. Sometimes I am woken up by all racism looming beneath the surface. I get upset and angry. My heart is crying and I am wondering how society is constructed. Maybe it is man’s departure from God that makes all of this. We do not follow the commandments. We do not have the integrity to live up to the values?
I wish you could warm me now, that you could hold me when the colour grey cover all the city and people flee into their houses, when I barely see a man on the street and the whole town looks like a film set, with nobody there .
I wish you could warm me, when the cold creeps into the marrow of my bones. You talk to me about the magic
of life. That which no science can explain, what is not rectilinear, what is in our heart, our soul.
I look with horror how many around me, walk around like robots, have all the correct opinions, but when it comes to action, there is little. “Check it out here, here is a web link”. That is the help we ofte get in Sweden when we ask each other for something. When I ask my neighbor in Bucharest to borrow a scale to weigh our suitcase, she comes with the scale , but she also comes with homemade chicken meatballs and a mischievous smile.
Photographer : Unknown. Found on Internet.