'EL COLUMPIO' CON MARIMBA

In the heart of a bustling neighborhood, there lies a public square where life unfolds with a rhythm all its own. The square is a gathering place, a space where everyone comes together as one big, extended family. It’s late afternoon, and the sun is dipping low, casting a warm, golden hue over the scene. The air is filled with the scent of freshly brewed coffee and the sweet aroma of churros frying nearby. The cobblestones beneath your feet are worn smooth by years of footsteps, each one a testament to the life that pulses through this vibrant community.
In the center of the square stands a marimba, its polished wooden bars gleaming in the fading light. The musician, an older man with a gentle smile, begins to play, and the first notes float into the air like a soft breeze. The music is tender, each note carefully chosen each chord a delicate balance of joy and melancholy. As the marimba’s melody fills the square, it seems to slow time, drawing everyone into its embrace.
People stop what they’re doing and gather around, drawn by the music’s irresistible pull. Children pause in their games, their eyes wide with wonder as they listen. A group of elderly women, sitting on a bench nearby, smile softly, their thoughts drifting back to their youth. Young couples, hand in hand, sway gently to the rhythm, their hearts beating in time with the marimba’s soulful tune.
The music has a way of reaching deep into the soul, stirring emotions that have long been tucked away. It speaks of love—love that was once new and full of promise, love that blossomed and faded, leaving behind sweet, bittersweet memories. The notes are like echoes of the past, each one a reminder of a moment, a kiss, a whispered word, now distant but never forgotten.
As the melody swirls around the square, it leaves a lingering taste, one that is rich and complex, like the flavors of the neighborhood itself. It is a taste of life’s fullness, of joys and sorrows intertwined. It’s a taste that reminds you of a time when love was simple and pure, even if it ended in tears. Furthermore, it’s a taste that lingers on your tongue, like the last sip of a perfectly brewed cup of coffee—warm, comforting, and just a little bit bittersweet.
The square, once filled with the noise and bustle of daily life, has become a place of quiet reflection, a place where everyone is connected by the shared experience of the music. The marimba’s notes wrap around the people like a blanket, bringing them closer, reminding them of the love that binds them together, even though the passage of time.
At this moment, under the fading light of the day, the square becomes more than just a meeting place; it becomes a living memory, a space where past loves and lost moments are remembered, cherished, and held close. The marimba’s music, with its deep, soulful tones, leaves a mark on everyone who hears it, a mark that will stay with them long after the last note has faded into the evening air.