Hallo Matilde Emilia,
A few days ago I found a photo of you mum, back when you were a teen and a dancing queen. And wish I had been there to see what your world was like then.
You face is a happy one, as if saying, "world here I come."
I still have some of your long letters and birthday cards that you wrote me as a boy, as a teen when I left home, and as a man.
On my dreams your face visits me and your beautiful eyes, the color of the sky, watch over me. Your soft hair, with golden tones, still flirts with the wind and flies away with the late afternoon clouds.
You talk to me but your voice is silent and your hugs are empty, yet you look over me.
I study my hands and long fingers and I see your hands on me. I wish there was more of you on me... I pray I could have you again.
I wish you could hold my hand as when I was a kid... I wish I could hold your hand as when I became a man.
Those beautiful strong hands who took care of me and tenderly dried my tears, who sang, talked to me and gave me discipline.
Those hands who painted rainbows, created far away worlds and placed a pencil on my fingers
A few days ago I found a photo of you mum, back when you were a teen and a dancing queen.
Manuello Paganelli © May 8 2016