(Flickr – Red Heart by Rune T)
Fields of waterfalls require faith.
Yet, I don’t fear crossings.
I believe in your embrace!
And time is our gift.
We were before the winds essence.
On such veil remains the comet’s core.
If a journey is a condition
I’ll inscribe all the steps until the end.
Every rebirth demands memory.
And I weave the shroud of red stones
into thin moonlight petals
yearning the kisses that fulfil your heart.
Myths of lust stay at bay
as I chase the twilight centaur,
hoping to deserve wisdom words
and return to the pleasure of your curves
The scarlet thing in you is my dream.
If you can not find order in chaos,
you are not in the universe!
Se não consegues encontrar a ordem no caos,
não estás no universo!
Há linhas destinadas a reencontrarem-se.
O que está por escrever,
é a decisão do momento.
There are lines destined for reencounter.
What is unwritten,
is the decision of the moment.
in Livro dos Pensares e das Tormentas, 153, 5 de Julho de 1998
new doors are born every day.
quiet, awaiting the fingertips grasp.
but inside us, blood is old.
only wind has permission to rejuvenate it.
the way to the darkness core is changing!
wind is time between doors
and doors must be shut.
that’s the essence of rebirth!
existence is an opening movement
that lingers in relativity.
none will return.