The incessant noise that causes stitches
the voices that make me want to run away
The cold air that moves the green leaves of the big trees
are my desire to know something beyond that fascinating dream.

The stars that lie just above,
high in the dark night with vague clouds.
All are there, waiting to be recognized or even someone to have their eyes on them.
Only a few shine, however, they are all there every night without fail.
All count,
few shine
and only a few of us are able to look up,
to the possibility.

Noelia S.M