I'm two years old

It’s light, it’s the straight lines that never curve, it’s the sun, it’s the moon, it’s you, it’s us, it’s life.

Together we painted reality, together we stood up, together we grew up like drops of water on leaves, we knew what we are, who we are, together we had the foresight to make time helpless in front of our power, we melted every obstacle, we lived every second, and I had my life revived, I’m two years old, but yet I speak like a poet, I sing like a bird, and I rain like a cloud.

I’m two years old but able to walk, I’m able to walk to my place, I’m two years old but able to wish, I’m able to believe and I’m able to receive, I’m two years old but my brush is not that young, my painting is the achievement I did throughout my life, I’m my paining and who said there’s time?

I’m two years old, but I know how to eat, I’m two years old and I see behind closed curtains, I see through you the mirror I see myself in when I look in your eyes, I’m two years old but wise enough to know I’m free to eat ice cream under the rain, I know I’m free because I sometimes fly with you, I sometimes borrow your wings to fly away into another time, I feel happiness in your eyes when you lend me your wings, and I still can’t explain it, but you obviously love to see me fly because you see what I see through my eyes.

I know that this physical world is obsessed with places, but I’m two years old and I still know we have always been in the same place together, sharing sun rays and clouds rain, sharing flights of fantasy, sharing our brush to paint the timeless painting I will hide in the museum of our life, I know words are another obsession, but words are nothing but the shell, light shines, shadows born, but we shine to kill shadows, my painting is a painting with no shadows, and it needs no light to be seen, because we poured light in the paint we used.

Miles are true, it’s what they say, miles are shadows that we light, wings are magic wands that we use to jump out of the physicality of where we used to live in.

I know no one, I hear no one, I cannot speak, I cannot walk, I can’t paint now, because I’m two years old, but shall we teach me again?