Is The Rawlings Primo Worth Buying

addition.

The time before Christmas, not of peace is still very much dominated by reflection. Anna tries to stay still in their midst, but she feels that it varies, sometimes they lose track. The Rock of Gibraltar has become a tottering pillar in the wind. If she closes her eyes, she felt her fatigue, her sadness, her despair - between all the things to do. It usually falls

into a deep sleep at night and wakes up only by a shrill alarm clock in the dark. But this time she wakes up suddenly in the middle of the night - on its own - and it's very dark around her. But internally, they immediately sensed the light, the little that shines there. She feels the warmth of her body belongs to knock her heart, feels light and free. Just before she starts to turn again to weiterzuschlafen, she decides to stay awake.

against the admonishing words of her head, which will turn on and produces rational warnings: should you sleep, relax for the day, generate forces, just SLEEP. But Anna is alive. And it assumes that. It is very still and feel how open her heart. She listens to the tunes of the night. Fine words. gives

The night her words, a free period, she gets holiday - from her night sleep - and takes the hesitation. They lived through the open space that is given her, and enters into it. She stands and turns to the window. It is winter. Cold. And the star-lit abundance hot and cold in the night sky. Light and darkness - so close together. Just like the emptiness and fullness that she feels the same in itself. The tranquility and ascended, the movement and pause.

difficult it is, whenever the opposition struggle with each other when they feel attacked by their opponent. To fight their place, their sovereignty. If the mutual recognition fails. Without light, no shadows, no shadows no light. That can be imagined. What feelings arise, however, if this wisdom does not think, but is experienced?

Anna feels like it will internally continue to expand. It is still at the window, very quiet. And she takes part in the past and a glimpse of the future, she feels the current time. And suddenly feels that she is a little star. That hooks. With this one. Still her tears down her cheeks, small stars on the earth.

people appear at its heart inside. And they feel, how their fate into their network begins to rain - even though people are all asleep in any place to dream ... probably. Or is there someone who is awake now? The stars considered? Just as they - can conquer and from his own heart?

How shooting stars are the words. Submit. And, they add. Just as it knows Anna from a poem by Erich Fried. And she thanks, yes, to whom, perhaps himself - for this night hours, alone at the window with the cold, wintry sky, they back together again.

additions


It is a poet
is a
the words
assembles

That's not true

A poet
is a
the words
still halfway
together

if lucky

When misfortune has
tear the words
him apart

Erich Fried