A walk in the woods.

It is true that somethings are beautiful if untold and is also a test of time.

She became younger day by day and her thoughts became clear like a crystal. She selected a different path, a walk backward. The intention was not to reminisce the old memories but to caress the sensations once she had felt and once she had enjoyed.
 Dreams were more clear and continuous. They appeared as sequels. She was never afraid of dreams. In fact, she was carrying her dreams along with her. She believed in those without a smidgen of doubt. Everything was being observed keenly and innocently. Beauty was not far. She was entrusted with love. She was free to learn.  Her thoughts were not interrupted but interpreted by herself. There was a flow, a constant copious  flow. She was neither floating nor sinking, she was flowing. By all means FLOW. 

Walking backwards, picking up the stones that she had playfully thrown away, rereading the symbols that she had tried to draw on many curios, staring at the trees that had waved at her years ago, trying to savor the attar of mystery and wonder she realizes that those days are like the wind. It never comes back like the same.