Ballad Of The Bike: Spring

We descend a mountain. There's something about the environment, the days get longer, they become perfect ... It's spring. My whole being cries out to my heart that wants to emerge. The heart responds like an animal in heat. It stirs the soul. Life is all-pervasive. It is life that makes its way through every pore of the skin. My brain is prepared for this great hatch. Millions of neurons bursting into a huge spectacle of perfect chemistry. Things vibrate and throw your message in the wind.

No time for sleep. Every minute counts. Madmen and geniuses eager shaken, men and women fighting for their happiness, writers, artists, musicians, scholars of this world, dream of sounds and silences.

All the intensity, the heat of nature and of life unfold before my astonished eyes. It is the beginning of a cycle, the melting of reason, singing to the genius and madness. Hypothermia of the insignificant, sensible and rational.

The rite of nature has begun. All blooms. We grow in the life of their men, their wives, their faces burned with passion and in his eyes, hands, gestures ... in every little corner of their bodies, is every human being to another, a response. Life stirs and shakes, vibrates and struggles to escape, feel, grow, fly, known alive.

The soul struggles to get away from the trivial, everyday. Is the call of nature. The annual flood carries us, the endless cycle, the volcano ancestral perfect dawn of creation. There is a sound, a color, a flavor, that pervade every feeling. Nothing escapes this fascinating spring. Everything is so full of life and beauty, everything is so perfect and intense, which produces a sweet pain.

? Angel Steps