It is said that every time we go riding our horses with us rise up angels and devils as well ...
is true ...
represent this duality that makes this way of life so full of emotions that sometimes the heart seems to want to jump out of the chest and screaming into a run ... ...
the little devils that run lso in an irrational and violent at times so that the sketch of adrenaline you get straight to the brain without going away from letting the tremors for long endless minutes ... that makes you bend that just enough to be turned into white hands and become one with our passion ... our life ...
much to think of it touched the limit of mantle that have shaken with our step shaving ...
And angels bearing the face and voice of is no longer with us ... our love ... our fears
and experiences built on our broken bones ...
Angels that you caress the wrist back to color and let go of the throttle just enough to enjoy without annoying that cloak that until a second ago we ripped screaming for the blast to see if it really is beautiful and sensuous mythological creature that perpetually hidden by the shadow of fear ...
Then there are the weekend in some way country lost in the mountains ... sitting on a wall with a cigarette that slowly consumes the corner of the lips ...
staring with the horizon and a hand unconsciously follows the sinuous lines of the tank or the subsidiary dome ... as colorful butterflies ...
harnessed as knights of old ... alone or in dazzling fashion show of sparks and reflections with the greeting
always ready even if you've never seen crossings and never see her again the ...
running .. But you die ... it is true ...
happens, but what other life is capable of giving us this passion?
These guys wonderful to hug and kiss as our children
Immersed in those leather suits, with their tattoos, with their brightly colored helmets, all real tough!
People that road never lowers his gaze
But try to raise their visors Martian dark eyes and you will find beautiful, clean, swollen with real tears that you can drown and get to the bottom of their soul to see how candid.
eyes that only youth can have more healthy. then try to take away those suits and you will find
inside children love of life, the incursions, weekends with steaks and sausages, but still much in need of a father or a mother to take them by the hand when fate begins to play so hard ...
Talk to each of us ... and ask them what would be if he should ever give up
this passion ... and get ready to hear the scream of silence ... and seeing that look of a kid becoming the look of a sailor forced to live on land with a view to the sea ...
of a pilot who looks at the sky anchored to the ground ...
Already ... dies in motorcycle ... but now you think we can understand?
I do not think ... not yet ...
then asked permission to bring a gathering at a picnic ... bathe in the pouring rain that
penetrates down to their underwear ... you enter in the bones ... you let the cold sting up to
tears ... you try to let the sun melt while wearing the inevitable technical jacket ...
Or just try to ask to stop burned so, for no apparent reason for the road you approach the edge of surprise to many (drivers) do not deign to look and how many (bikers) will stop to offer help, companionship , a simple step to nearest distributor even though it is located several miles or to a place in your garage for the bike and a hot meal for you while you wait for help ...
... Do so and then, only then you will come to touch the essence of being
Motorcyclist dies in motion, it is true ... but there is no better way to live as long as we are allowed ... and if
still do not understand it well '... forget it, you'll never understand.
But if tomorrow when you go to the beach with your family automobile correct were to occur one of us and you could see your child suddenly turning around to greet Tugging give up like crazy even to understand him ... In his unconsciousness he sees in us that spark that you have not been able to see ... and if you see the Biker rich hange the greeting ... be '... there is nothing strange you know?
Between Angels on earth we always salute ... but this, who lost their wings, can not remember ...
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