The cart of time

This cart is floating in time space rocking from one year to another and from one century to another.

You will be sitting inside it and watching the wonderful lifetime you have lived.

Images of everything you have done mixed with what you have not had time for but have thought it over and with what will no longer ever come true will be standing on the sides of the road you have walked over.

The images touch with your cart and you can touch them if you are strong enough…

They look through you and remind you of the familiar faces which have already walked past…

As if they are made out of grey clouds it seems from afar that it is mist which comes to life and vanishes one instant later and only the leaden rainy clouds remain behind…

The clouds send rain and your back can feel the withdrawing humid breath of life…

Ant a beautiful glorious rainbow will see you off with a cloud of a lovely face and a smile which used to throw light upon your life.

The already withdrawing rainbow of love will shed light on the delightful fountain of life and your patience, pain and sufferings, joy and delight…

Afterwards it is only the white magic light…and this last tiny baby figure charmingly waving at you like the last angel that looks like you….

The already ash-grey clouds will flood you with the last memory of your birth…

To the sounds of the baby’s song the beautiful drops of this shower will carry your ultimate consciousness away somewhere…

And the fascinating fluffy snow, like flittering butterflies will slowly and solemnly fall on the grown cold ground.

And the dream will come for the sake of your delight for which you have gone in your cart through this span of time given to you…

 You will see her again…

 Snowflakes will be melting on her warm hands with a happy feeling of an inevitable meeting…

She will widely smile looking at the sky and standing somewhere near and you will hear her enchanted breath…

The sound of trees will sing something looking at her face…

The winter sun peeping out of snowy clouds will silver snow with its beams on her fluttering wavy hair…

The snow will heat up and melt on her pink lips as if after a passionate farewell kiss….

 

 

 

Автор: magsaund

Образование высшее, экономист. Живу осмысленно, имею привычку думать самостоятельно, т.к. всегда учусь чему то и имею свое мнение, и понимаю, что каждый несет свою ношу. Если ноша бросается, начинаются плохие привычки.

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