You see her shining eyes; you see the sparks, you see the fire; you dry her tears. You smell the scent of her body; you feel the softness of her skin. You touch her lips; you hear her voice.
She is your world. She is your life. She is everything you wish and care for.
You sit beside the fire, your arms wrapped around her. In your eyes the flames dance like thousands mayflies.
You are a dream and a tear in the eyes of a ghost.
How can so much love come from so much sadness? How can so much joy come from so much melancholy? How can all this go so straight to our soul? How can this songs and this voice fill us with … life? How can we feel the inner heat left by her even in this cold night? Maybe we don’t need to know. Maybe we only need to see and feel it happening.
Sometimes the words are not enough to tell everything. Sometimes my love, all I can say to you is this – wherever you are, vaya con dios.
A night for those who like to walk. The touch of a gentle wind. A few stars shimmering in the sky.
Tens of thousands of people waiting for something in the relative silence under the lights.
Then the lights go off. And the silence is no more. It’s music time. It’s her energy flowing through the crowd. It’s the old and the new, it’s the whisper and the shout, it’s the lady and the tramp, it’s the virgin and the bitch, it’s the love and the hatred, it’s the tolerance and the border of insanity. And for a strange moment, a tribute to the music of the King, still more loved than the one we hear now. Thousands of hearts and minds stand united by the music.
And as sudden as it has begun, the game is over. The stars are above us once more. And the people start flowing on the streets, in the sweet end-summer night.
The night and the silence cover everything. And the time passes. And the night passes.
A curve, like the unending horizon of a beautiful island …
A point, like a bird in the sky …
A line, like the first ray of light of a nascent sun …
A butterfly shimmering in the light like a thousand stars …
A morning, like there’s no tomorrow …
A new day, with a new memory.
There was once a city. A city like no other. A city built on the waves of the sea. And in this city there was a palace. A palace in which monarchy, oligarchy and democracy stood side by side. A palace from which the fate of millions of lives was decided across the centuries. Constantinopole was overrun by crusaders because sometimes not even the will of the Holy Seat was heard under the banner of the Lion of St Mark. The Turks were kept at bay over and over again because the Lion ruled the seas. When all the powers of the western world united against him, the Lion stood its ground. When the religious fanaticism of the counter-reformation swept the catholic world, under the Lion’s banner there was still freedom. Art and culture also found a home in the richest city of the world.
Oh, how the mighty have fallen.
Giotto painted the redemption for another city and Venice is walking through the Purgatory. Now only that palace which still exists remembers the might of the Lion. Now the dreams of Venice are carried on the waves only by the millions who come to see the legendary city.
I wondered through this city. I walked on its islands, its bridges and its squares. I floated on its waters. I smelled the lagoon. I felt the dormant power of its history. I touched the lives and the dreams of hundreds of people. And I will always think at the city which received my lonely soul and let it swing on the waves of the collective dream while Mas Que Nada played in my mind.
Venice. The pearl of the Adriatic Sea. The queen of the seas. A city embraced by the waters.
Let this sea wash away the doubts and the sorrow; let this sea wash away the memories and the longing; let this sea drown the tears and clean the soul. Let the waves bring peace to the wandering minds.
The wind was howling through the night. The human-wolves were hunting in the darkness. Lies and betrayals were all around. The preying on the weak or the suffering was the way of living. The death and the wars were destroying the future. In the ashes of life, hope, scared and bleeding, was hiding. Angels were falling from the sky.
A moment of silence. The sound of crying. The tears of a child falling on the broken wing of an angel. A ray of light shining on the face of innocence. A pure soul washing the sins of an imperfect world. The revived hope.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me. Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
What do you hear? Nothing but the rain.
This is how the story should have begun. But that was a different story that what I’m writing now. I thought about it and I almost wrote it. But it’s not it’s time yet. Because that was a story of inner peace. And there are still some steps until then.
Inner peace is not that easy to find. Sometimes you just want something too much. Sometimes it’s too much love or too much hate. Sometimes you suffer for lost friends. Sometimes you yearn for long gone lovers. Sometimes you cry for those departed. It takes time to understand. It takes time to accept. It takes time to forgive. It takes time to move on. But you should never forget. And especially you should never forget all that was good. And, step by step, inner peace will come. Your friends and lovers will help, and so will your relatives, your teachers or your confessors. The Divinity and the Universe will conspire with your soul to bring back the peace.
A moment of suffering may seem like eternity. An eternity of happiness may pass like a moment. Sometimes when you’re in pain the entire world looks like an enemy. Sometimes when you’re happy you forget that the world still exists. And yet, the world doesn’t change. And yet, the time doesn’t alter its flow. A world full only of good people exists out there. A world full of good people that know or don’t yet know how good they are. Those who know, will help you when you’re in pain. It’s your job to show the others how good they are, and how good is the world around them, when you can. Some say that is easier for a man to destroy the Light inside himself than to defeat the darkness all around him. But that inner light can never be destroyed, only dimmed. And with care it can turn back to brighten the other dimmed lights that until then looked like a darkness.
The good people are here. And until the only noise we hear in our inner peace is that of the refreshing summer rain, remember – Ecce Homo.
How do we escape from this dark world? A world of secrets, a world of lies, a world of half-truths? How do we sail on this sea of deceit? What light do we see in this world where what a friend knows is just the tip of an iceberg? Is there a hope for a cleaner world?
Maybe there is hope. Maybe trust is the name of this light. Trust brings back trust from the people worthy enough to be named humans. In time the trust and the truth make other people see a new way. And this people are your friends. Your real friends. The people to whom you can trust your life and your darkest secrets. The people who will not judge you, but only listen and advise you. The people with whom you will talk to enlighten your mind. The people who will be there with you for one life or more.
And step by step, light start to shine in this world, ice start to melt and the sea becomes again a mirror of reality.
Hope has returned to this world.
Who are our friends?
What do we do to keep them close? Do we tell them our problems? Do we tell them our fears? Do we tell them our joys? Do we let them see just glimpses of our lives? What do we share?
Do we have time for our friends? Do we have time for our families? Or do we have time just for us and our lovers? How much time do we share?
Do we want them to be forever there for us? What will happen if we forget to speak with them? If in a moment or the other we are not in the mood for them? If we don’t answer? If we forget to return their calls? Will they still be our friends? Will they still know who we are now? Will they be our friends because of whom we are or because of whom we have been some other time, when they still understood us?
Friendship. Such a beautiful word. Such a beautiful thing. So difficult to get, so easy to loose. And yet, so many times a friendship is forever. A bridge from pieces of our souls, which can never be broken. But is it a bridge from the present or a bridge from the past?
Friends, lovers, family. Something yesterday, something today. And who knows what will be tomorrow? The bridges are here to last forever. It depends only of us.
And we will never be alone.
Today the mayflies paused their dance and all movement froze for a moment.
Today the heart of music stopped. Today a 50 years thriller ended and a man of legend died. A man which was just as human as the rest of us. A man clad in black and white. Today Michael Jackson the man died and the world cried.
Let this man rest in peace. And let his legend leave forever.
The king is dead. Long leave the king.
What gifts has this Universe given to us? And what do we do with them? What do we return?
Some people are powerful; they can save others from perils. Some people receive knowledge; they can make all our lives easier and better. Some people receive compassion; they can give us the hope of a better way. Some people receive intuition; they can lead us towards a happier future. Some people receive faith; they can bring peace of mind to our kindred. And some people receive other powers; they can teach our souls the right way.
So we could say that when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade, right? If it only was that simple.
But it isn’t, because mankind didn’t receive only “good lemons”. Other “gifts” are plenty around us. Our species received selfishness and mistrust. We have powers and intelligence but we use them only for our own good. We don’t trust in the goodness of other people and don’t give them back what they deserve. We misuse our good gifts because of our bad gifts and we don’t appreciate what we have until we lose it. So good turns to bad, hope turns to fear, happiness turns to sorrow.
This looks bad, yes. But are all hopes lost? No, because hope dies last always. And so some people can get over their bad gifts. Were they find suffering, comfort comes. They lift up your burdens. They teach you to trust yourself and the others and ease your mind. Seeing the bad thing around them, they bring help and hope to the life of others. Their spirit lights the darkness.
So what do you do with your lemons?
Trust in the wonders of this Universe. And when life gives you lemons, make apple juice. Then show the whole world how you did it. And this will be a better place for you and everybody else.
What do you show?
What do you hide?
What can a friend,
see in your mind?
Who are you today?
And how about tomorrow?
What will you tonight
show to your lover?
Is this your freedom?
Is this you choice?
Is this a dream
or the mask of a rose?
Do words have any inherent value? Are words like love, freedom, peace, charity, trust, friendship or help any good by themselves?
Are the words enough to mirror your soul? Are the words telling your true story? And what are the words without facts to sustain them? But facts, are they always enough without words to reveal them?
And this, this are only words telling questions. The answers are there, inside everyone’s mind and soul. So are the good words and the good facts. They must be searched and found. And until all the answers are understood, everyone can do the best deeds he can think of and try to use only the right words to explain them.
Find your lost mayflies, love them and don’t forget to show your love with words. Não es estrago, es solo fecundo, e vou plantar jardin ai.
What do you give to your lover, dear human friend?
Do you give her flowers? Flowers show the beauty of nature, flowers are the messengers of life. Is it this how you give her your frozen moments in time?
Do you give her diamonds? Diamonds show the beauty of the earth, diamonds are the messengers of fortune. Is it this how you make her your lucky charm?
Do you give her words? Words show the beauty of your feelings, words are the messengers of your heart. Is it this how you show her your love?
Do you give her your dreams? Dreams show the beauty of time, dreams are the messengers of the future. Is it this how you share with her your desires?
Do you give her your soul? The soul shows the beauty of the eternity, the soul is a messenger of the Divinity. Is it this how you give her your life?
Mayflies don’t need flowers, mayflies don’t understand diamonds, mayflies have no words. For the mayflies time is a lucky dream. The soul of a mayfly is the soul of the swarm. It is his and everybody else at the same time. It is given and received back. In the mayflies’ world, there is only love and all desires are answered. In a mayflies’ world, the moment is the eternity.
Time and time again, the lost mayflies return to the heart of the swarm.
A storm was coming. The wind was howling through the trees. Angry clouds were gathering above. The sky was growing darker with any passing moment. Lightnings were coming to scare away the living. Thunders were echoing true the air. A few raindrops were falling here and there.
Like everybody else, the mayflies were scattering. They were hiding away from the suddenly threatening nature.
And then … a burst of light was filling the darkness. In the far west, beyond the clouds, the sun was escaping. It was glowing again, dividing the surroundings into powerful shades of dark blue and yellow. The harsh contrast was almost painful to watch for their little eyes.
But what’s happening there? A few drops of color showing in the distance on the threatening sky of the dark east; a little red; and then, a little yellow; and green … And the colors, the colors were growing, rising towards the heavens.
Now the mayflies were waiting, looking and trying to grasp the changes in the sky. The colors were now on the other side too, and growing. And then they were touching above. Now an arch of color was passing across the sky. And there, some distance from it, more colors were painting the clouds. What a miracle is a rainbow in the life of a mayfly!
The wind and the thunders were no more. And the light of the sun was no longer harsh, but tender. And the magic was bathing everything.
In the engulfing sunset, the blessed mayflies were dancing.
Everybody deserves a second chance, says John Connor.
But is this true? And even if it is true, does everybody get that second chance? And if we get it, can we recognize this chance? What if it is not the second chance we were expecting, but … another one? Will we see it? Will we take it?
But do we really need second chances? Or just … chances, any chances? Can we jump to the chances around us?
What chances does a lost mayfly need, so it can dance again?
Time stood still for a moment. And a voice echoed in my mind.
- What are you dreaming, my child?
- I’m dreaming … I’m dreaming about love.
- Love, child?
- Yes, Father. I’m dreaming about my loved one. She’s here; she’s looking at me; she’s speaking with me …
- And what are you talking about, child?
- Oh, nothing important. She’s just asking some silly questions, like how are her clothes fitting together; like she doesn’t know what I’ll say; like she doesn’t know all I see is … love. And then … then we’re smiling; we’re smiling and laughing and kissing. And we’re dancing the dance of the mayflies. The dance of the pure moment. The dance which defies time.
- Good, my child. Now go back. Go back in your dreams. The time will wait for you. And every moment will border the eternity.
- Yes, Father. I will.
Our Father, Who is in heaven, Holy is Your Name. Protect our loved ones wherever they are. And give to our passing dreams power over time, so that the mayflies can dance … forever.
And the time moved forward again.
Have you ever longed for the spring? Have you ever saw the ice shying away from the young sun? Have you ever felt the nature coming back to life? Mother Earth knows this while she dances with the stars.
Have you ever longed for the sun? Have you ever saw the million flowers blossoming to the sky? Have you ever smelled the sweet scent of the color? The trees know this while they dance in their mind.
Have you ever longed for the rain in a hot summer day? Have you ever felt the rejuvenating water caressing your dry skin? Have you ever been filled by this happiness? The humans know this while they dance on the fields.
Have you ever longed for the time? Have you ever felt the passing of seconds? Have you ever lived for the moment of love? The mayflies know this while they dance with the swarm.
Have you ever longed for the sea? Have you ever touched the hardness and the softness of the earth? Have you felt the love of the nature drinking from your life? The river knows this while it dances with the mountains.
Have you ever longed for the sky? Have you ever felt the freedom of flying? Have you ever followed the passing of clouds? The birds know this while they dance with the wind.
Have you ever longed for the ice? Have you ever felt the need for returning? Have you ever thought of your soul mate anguish? The penguins know this while they dance with the ocean.
Have you ever longed for eternity? Have you ever touched the infinity of space? Have you ever felt the unending love of God? Life knows this while it dances with time.
