BY VIVIAN COLOMBO I walked the streets of the city when suddenly my gaze is resting on a joung mother who was holding in her arms her little baby born a few days. A small infant with arms and legs that looked like the little bones of a skeleton. My eyes rested on this baby…
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Breath Let yourself be illuded by waves Now hight, now low But don’t let yourself be swallowed Listen to the rustle of the wind, To the call of animals And go into the creation of the Father. Breathe Get out of the world Open your lungs to Christ’s life. Breathe Look at the nature and…
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