Gandhi speaks (frozen silvery roads)

All the trees are huddling together in this freezing week in Gandhi's gardens. The icy fingers of la Tramontana  stretch over their branches and divest them of any trembling leaves that desperately attempt to hold to the bark. The trees have stopped whispering and remain dormant.

Over the grass, in the morning, one can see small dew paths, like snail trails, frozen silvery roads. And Gandhi remains the sole figure that bows not to the wind. His tiny shoulders appear capable of carrying the world in the dawn's glow. Yet no birds come to rest on them.

A short man, with his face full of dirt has come to rest at the statue's feet, exhausted, cold, afraid. He carries numerous plastic bags inside a supermarket trolley, covered by a worn and tired blanket. A red hat distinguishes him from the grey of the pavements, and the grey of his beard's hairs, frozen silvery roads. Devoid of any energy, the man cocoons himself inside the blanket and faints into sleep.

"Listen, my good man, 

You've endeavoured to lead a good life

You left your country to search for a bigger chance

You left behind the Christmas sun

To step onto frozen silvery roads.

Listen, my good man, 

Do not despair because you have no home

Do not despair because your loved ones are not within this world

Do not despair, do not despair,

Because the city seems to hold no love.

Listen, my good man,

Tonight is a terrible night,

The blood freezes inside the veins,

The fingerbones stick together, shaking  in the air,

Drawing frozen silvery roads.

In the morning, my good man,

You will find a present laying at your feet,

You will find the light, the breath and the heat,

You will find that there is hope around the corner,

For you are not yet to die, nor to be alone.

In the morning, my good man,

You will see that a new strength comes to you,

You will hear that a new voice calls to you,

You will feel that there is much love within you,

Melting the frozen silvery roads.

Now, my good man,

I will protect you from the cold with a prayer,

I will help your wounds by chanting a healing mantra,

I will empower your soul with this truth:

All the love you need is within you.

Now, my good man, 

Sleep peacefully. "

As morning arrives, the temperature seems to have picked up, and the man starts to awaken with a sense of warmth. He hadn't slept so well for many weeks now. There's a glowing and wet feeling on his cheek, and a little whimpering sound. Little kisses. A sweet good morning. A new young friend introducing himself, whilst wagging his little tail and scratching its paws on the frozen silvery roads.