Perdele


La un moment dat, am stiut ca ceva in structura delicată a perdelelor, vălurilor, mai mult sau mai puțin transparente, îmi vorbește într-un fel anume si mă atrage. Ceva in mișcarea lor molatica in adierile de vânt, ca niște umbre.
 
Mama spăla perdelele in fiecare an prin preajma Paștelui, si aerul de primăvară se mișca apoi prin poala lor afânată cu gratia unei balerine. Mă uitam la dansul asta si încercam sa înțeleg viața ce mi se deschidea in fata ca o carte cu file miscatoare...

Viata nu e simpla si nici clara, si o vedem prin perdele, văluri, mai mult sau mai puțin transparente. Câteodată, mă mai si îmbrac in văluri, in vânt fuginde, ca o mireasa pe un țărm singuratic, etern in așteptarea unui vapor fără nume...

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