Poetry to Max made by myself when I saw him in the heart of Brazil

THE WALKER He was a lonely traveller. He used to be in different places and he liked it. His life was an adventure. Either he was in the town or he was in the forest. But sometimes he also flew throughout the sky to appreciate beautiful sights of the earth. He almost didn’t talk. He preferred the silence. During the day the sunshine was his guide and at night he had the starlight as a guide. There was always a lot of light in his way and it made him someone special. He had courage and boldness. He had to be alert about everything around him, but he didn’t have to be someone distrustful. In fact, he liked it when he arrived in an isolated little village because he noticed the folk’s simplicity. As soon as he arrived, the people asked themselves: -Who will this walker be? – and the children, in turn, approached him with singular curiosity. Once in a while he gave many gifts to the children such as small handcrafts, which were made by himself, rare rocks, exotic trees seeds and so forth. When he left the spot everybody blessed him and wished him a pleasant journey. One day, when he was climbing a mountain, his body cooled. It was very cold. Then he stopped and made a camp-fire. He sat down and stayed quietly listening to the sound of the wind. He could translate its massage. He would do it if he wanted, but he didn’t need because his heart understood it. His tramp didn’t have a beginning or an end and nobody ever knew about his dreams.   
For you, Max with love from Luciana July 2007