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D'inverno un'alba

13/3/2015

 
Picture
La notte iniziava a sfaldarsi, lentamente corrotta da sottili lame di luce, incrinata dagli attesi sussurri di un’altra fredda alba invernale. Colori e pulsazioni in divenire, fragranti seppure ancora incerte, comunque irte di pungenti speranze, tutti insieme si addensavano in quel lasso temporale che precede il risveglio. Terra di nessuno, realtà e sogno confusi e intrecciati, possibilità illimitate e tempo senza tempo nè direzione. Terra magica di idee e ìd improvvisi e repentini cambiamenti di stato, universo pulsante di creazioni e suggerimenti che a volte, solo a volte, al risvegio, vengono conservati e regalati.
L’Io che riprende coscenza di se, del proprio corpo e dei confini del mondo e della mente. Tutto il resto intorno, come qualcosa di esterno, differente, oggetto di osservazione. Il confine ristabilito, il nuovo giorno ormai aperto alle possibilità ad esso associate.
Silenzio, ancora.
Allungò la mano cercando a tentoni l’interruttore lungo la parete che sembrava non finire mai.
Qualche rumore fuori, appena percepibile. Il suo respiro, il suo cuore che batteva. Lo sentiva perfettamente. Accese la luce e il bagliore improvviso quasi gli ferì gli occhi seppure ancora chiusi. Rimase un attimo immobile, poi li aprì lentamente. I colori del mondo erano ancora lì, seppur confinati nella breve esperienza della camera.
Ne riconobbe i tratti, nè ricordò le sfumature, le fattezze, gli elementi. Ed insieme a questi, tornò a galla l’intero corpo di emozioni e pensieri, ricordi ed idee che solo poco prima erano parcheggiate nel buio delle ore dedicate al sonno.

Fissava il soffitto Brian, ancora incerto se alzarsi o rimanere qualche minuto in più.

Non c’era fretta in fondo, non oggi.

Walking across the sitting-room, I turn the television off.
Sitting beside you, I look into your eyes.
As the sound of motor cars fades in the night time,
I swear I saw your face change, it didn’t seem quite right.
… And it’s hello babe with your guardian eyes so blue
Hey my baby don’t you know our love in true.

Coming closer with our eyes,
a distance falls around our bodies.
Out in the garden, the moon seems very bright,
Six saintly shrouded men move across the lawn slowly.
The seventh walks in front with a cross held high in hand.
… And it’s hey babe your supper’s waiting for you
Hey my baby don’t you know our love is true.

I’ve been so far from here,
Far from your warm arms.
It’s good to feel you again,
It’s been a long time. Hasn’t it ?

(Supper’s Ready, Foxtrot, Genesis)

    Author

    ​Stories and novels, stories and shades of words. Sapphire can be a voice, a whisper, a night talk.  Colours in words, words merged and melted with pictures. Words as colours, words as shapes sometimes overlapping with the visual experience.  A different way to see the world or, maybe, just the very same way using different tools and finding different paths. ​

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  • Home
  • The Blogs
    • The sapphire blog
    • The crimson blog
    • The emerald blog
    • Wordpress space
  • Stories
    • TanzanEyes
    • The Masai girl
    • Rwanda
    • 3 Years later
    • India
  • Patterns of life
    • Schwetzingen
    • Silver in the morning
    • The other city
    • HumanNotHuman
    • Fading out
    • Those foggy days
    • StreetNoise
    • As the night gently talks
    • Assisi in Black and White
    • Praising the absence
    • Caesura
    • Convolution
    • Impulses
  • People
    • Juliet
    • Street portraits
  • About
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