Sailing to the moon

Some days ago Francesco Benozzo has left this world.
He was a great soul.
Poet, philologist, musician, writer, shaman... He was in touch with the spirit of nature and mankind.

I'm feeling an empty space inside me, but, at the same time, I feel his soul inside me, he's giving the power to be myself. I wish to live a free life like him, an anarchic life, in contact with the origins of humanity.

He said 'only poetry, only dissidence will save the world'.

He loves Appennini mountains, wild life, faraway from frenetic city life.
I met him two times, only some words, but a strong empathy within us.
We didn't need so much words: silence, being inside a deep wood at twilight,
the song of his harp linked us, and his voice keep on link us and all friends who loved him, forever.

I dedicated to him these three pictures of the moon.
And here some verses of his poetry 'Epiglacial moon':

"Le traslucide resine di luna
Hanno estirpato dalle mie parole
Lo sfacelo barbarico del sole." (F. Benozzo)
(Italian language)

"The translucent resins of the moon
Have uprooted from my words
The barbaric ruin of the sun."

Migrant souls. Souls that leave, souls that rise in the womb. Maybe they are the same... You don't find the boundaries of our individuality so uncertain? I wish to be only a good guardian of this journey of souls.
Thanks Francesco.
We will meet again, finally free!

A crescent moon on Tigullio gulf (Liguria, Italy):

The places he loved, the place we love (Emilia Romagna, Italy)

Pictures taken with Nikon D800.