When the mother was a moth she used to weave her cocoon high, high up in the trees, it then got warmed by the sunshine rays and the faith of the crystal siblings was mesmerizing across the valley of the dew-forest delights.
Every moment opened, shined through the mirror of time and the kindness of the entire world was so overflowed from bliss that all the boys came there to smile at the dawn and sing to the trees, laying down their golden wings-too delicate to dream of their own flights, too powerful to carry the sorrow of the world ~ Grigoris Deoudis