“Once upon a time, there was a frightened dragon. He tore through the sky, fleeing an invisible threat known only to him.
From the frantic beating of his wings, a cyclone was born.
As the dragon approached, a tremor would run through the air, awakening what had been frozen for so long. Then everything would begin to dance, to sing, to whirl, to the clumsy rhythm of the uncontrolled gusts. Once the cyclone had passed, only what had been spared the wounds of past time would remain standing, witnessing that fleeting encounter.
In the midst of the void left behind, through the gutted floors of the ravaged homes, unsuspected flowers would then born.
Was remaining then the rekindled poetry, the tender memory of the frightened dragon, and the fervent wish that it might one day find peace.”