'grazie...
vivere felici...'
he said...
not said
but wished
not wished
he prayed...
probably he prayed...
for the violet
the red...
for the sky...
the blue...
for the leaves...
the green...
for each and every element...
living and non living
that surround him
days...nights...
evenings...
he chose mornings
to pray...
and he saw
a perfect reply
coming in...
pouring in...
in terms of the Signs...
in terms of marble balls...
in terms of ice so cool...
in wind...
in light...
in alleys and roads...
in big green nine hole golf course...
in inglorious french clips of celluloid...
in glorious and holy dips in water...
in long walks...
and
he felt
there is no other more beautiful thing to utter...
to send out the heart
than muttering a prayer...
'grazie...
vivere felici...'
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