Perfection

Still the soft colors of twilight are kissing this day.



I've been at sea, I was looking for playa de las vistas to understand what it was, to understand what's the biggest and most famous beach nearby.
I found tourists, but not the crowd, and in the low light of the sun everything was amplified.
There were sand sculptures and, further, two girls kissing.
I decided to make a ring to enjoy the scene closely, I rubbed my feet on the sand, I slowly approached the shore.
But when I've been there, in the glare of the sun, I had to lie down and enjoy that moment.



Maybe in 5 minutes I will take the bite of loneliness, perhaps the worm of mediocrity will come back to gnaw the right side of my heart but, now, with fine sand that falls from my hands, the low clouds dancing with the sun and these games light in the water, it's a moment of absolute perfection.
I'm really fine. Yesterday It was even more clear. In these moments I'm not hungry and I'm not thirsty.
Any kind of hunger and any kind of thirst.

A beautiful girl had stopped to enjoy the sunset but she didn't survive long in the strong and rough wind of evening. He interrupted his steps, he looked at me uncertain, and then resumed her walk towards her direction.
Bye.
In 5 minutes I will regret but, here, now, I have all the perfection, the beauty that I need.
I went to say thanks in the church of the Madonna del Carmen.

Now, on my terrace, as in many other places in the world, the stars are rising, while the horizon still has some red glow behind the profile of La Gomera.
The ocean is becoming the blackish liquid that swallows the world and all its dreams, but it is only there that we can see the lights above us and the divine flame that burns indomitable in the dark abyss of our spirit.

I know that soon, I know that every day I'll have again hunger and thirst, a new painful unfillable gap to fill.
Where is the living water that takes off the thirst ? Where is the stupor of glass? Where is this perfection that I can't hold ?

I know. I know it's in my myopic eyes, in my cold hands, in the sweet and bitter tears of an instant without defenses.
As when you watch your son, as you look the woman you love and you see her, only you, perfect in her perfect imperfection, perfect in the love you feel for her.
It's only in that moment that we see well, you see with the eyes of God.
God makes no mistakes.
I, you, we're not mistakes.
I, you, we are perfect expressions of divine love.
Why it's so hard to believe?

Floating in the dark, in front of me, the lights of La Gomera.