Debts in the rain.

"...Keep Ithaca always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you're destined for.
But don't hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you're old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you've gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaca to make you rich..."

KAVAFIS. Ithaca.

Sounds from the ground... from ever-empty mermaids... sounds from hypocritical scribbles... sounds from distressing caricatures...
So many times you stumble...
So many times you fall...
So many times you bet on the wrong waterfall...
So many times you kiss the fake...
So many times you dance with the fallacious...
So many times...the frog is never the prince...

And you just smile... and thank... and embraces the greatness that surrounds the apparent nonsensical dream-like melody...
Because not far, in those lands of Hope and Faithfulness... in the sacred places in which our brave brothers gave everything asking nothing in return... in those prairies... the sunshine is still forever... and detachment is the most precious way to become rooted...
By going there... you leave... with wide-open wings... willing to take everything with you: the solitude and the companionship of the stars... the sorrow and the joy... the grief and the ecstasy from the colorful skies... the heartbreaking condition of those who decided not to flow and your guardian angels... the battle and the truce... the consistency and the honor... the melancholy and the dew... the dawn and the dusk...
Up above the salutation from the oceans and the deserts... It's time to let them go... It always was... No room for unworthy empty jars... for corrosive caprices... for one-hundred faced fashionable icons... no room for simple anecdotes in a vulgar mural...
Because you are in an eternal debt to those who made the way you are... because you are this sunset and the one million previous twilights... because you have to make them feel proud of yourself... with the bravery of your soul... with the generosity of your heart... with the pureness of the truth... with the company of your loneliness... with the certainty that every single second of waiting has been worth it...
Below... It is starting to rain... but you know raindrops are ecstasy... and you know this world needs more poetry in the shape of a reflex self-aware...
You are getting it... don't you see? You are almost breeze... and scent... and beginning and end...