And here I am, I cannot believe it. Sometimes it is such a dream, a dream, where I stand up in the face of the wind, like now, it blows at my jacket, and my eyelids flick a little bit,  … Read More

Somewhere, out at the edges, the night Is turning, and the waves of darkness Begin to brighten the shore of dawn The heavy dark falls back to earth And the freed air goes wild with light, The heart fills with … Read More

My fine strong horse can pull a heavy plough and never tire. Yet it can also gallop through the wild country. I am working hard at love, with the wind in my hair. – Jose’ Morazan – 1952, Honduras PiYo … Read More