skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Today two women met in the church in front of me. They both had their little children with them.
One was on her way out when the other asked if she was allowed to light a candle.
- Of course - was the surprised answer.
- But I am Muslim.
- God is the same for both of us.
They went together to the altar, one light a match and the other one, with that same fire, lighted a candle up.
They smiled at each other and moved on.
(The Olive Tree Tales)
He stopped here a moment for a last goodby. His eyes embraced his land and watered it with tears.
He left.
He was ready to go till the end of the world grabbing his string-kept suitcase full with dreams.
Not long ago I saw his son coming back here: he was wearing the white robe of a pope.
(The Olive Tree Tales)
It was one of the most beautiful sunset of the summer when they arrived.
They had polished curvy cars and graceful clothes; some of them started to play an enchanted unheard music, the rest began to dance.
The waves I can see from my hill moved the same way kissing the coast.
I felt that both, sea and people, were not dancing: they were writing poetry.
(The Olive Tree Tales)
