Are you living now?

Hey, you. Let me talk to you about something: one day, you will die.

Shh, don’t be afraid… You will be the Earth, you will be the Universe, again. 

Your son will grab your old hand, dried as an autumn leaf, your brain will search for some answers, as a bottle that floats in the sea.

But let me ask you something: are you living, now?

Shh, listen. 

Your heart. Have you ever touched its beating? 

Have you ever listened to its steps?

Listened. Listened to the beat of your lover. Listened to the laugh of the creatures. Listened to the words of your planet.

Shh…

You are alive.

Shh… Feel this cold ground. 

There will be Sun on these blades of grass, there will be clouds during the flight of the seagulls. 

You’ll have to touch this moment with peace.

Shh… Respect your sensitivity.

You are alive.

So, run. Run through the drops of the rain. If you’ll get wet, you will dry.

Give your strongest petals to the ones who fear the blossom. 

Endorse the thin cortex of the ones who pretend to be oaks.

Love.

Love the existence of all the cells.

Shh… Let me remind you something: one day, you will die.

Your time will have passed away, as a dandelion in a blow, your mind will read the pages, writing your signature at the end.

But let me ask you something: are you living, now?

-Aurora Ovan