The flame

The flame that moves us is wanting, an irreducible will, a relentless will, wanting moved by dreams and fantasies, waking up, that warms the heart of the cold chill of the coldness of the night, brings the hope of a new beginning at the most grotesque moments sudden that breaks us, the incessant flame as a fuel for our car. The flame often outweighs the ordinary delusions, the flame that sees light where there are only darknesses built by little walls of little things. The flame that kindles the life that is called the sun.

Giant, unconditionally to radiate its light like a heart in the middle of the darkness in which proves that not everything is lived by exchanges ... But of beauty and divinity, of greatness and generosity, to show us every day how we are so small and pretentious by its magnificence over us, its potency, its beauty. We will never be able to radiate its light, we will never be able to illuminate so many lives, it is everywhere and it does not depend on anyone, but we do depend on you.

It is omnipotence, the omniscience of men so fragile and ephemeral of the earth, and when we bow to you, we look up to see its light that gives us life, gives hope and heat. And it draws our subjective flames to this 'will', of hope continuing to always follow in the path of light to open the curtains of the mystery of tomorrow.