Golden rain of shame,

Orgasm without a frame.

Unlimited pleasure shared,

Rights and wrongs dared.

Taboo of what is allowed

In this body that speaks loud.

Expression before permission,

Tear apart all this addiction.

Past believed limitations,

Blocking all this transformation.

Visceral needs of unknown sensation

Decontrolled body of experimentation.

Fear of rejection by non acceptance

This free mad exploration...

Golden rain of shame,

Orgasm without a frame.

With just one...

To see behind the curtain of what it is

And touch the past and future...

With just one kiss.

To travel inside the whole meaning in ease

And grasp the sensing moment...

With just one tease.

To find beneath the soul the roots in peace

And weave my being in me...

With just one eternal bliss.

To be above the fear that knows in me

And create a new possibility

With just one hiss.

Creation of my creation,

Vision of my vision,

Reality in I...

Of what me can mean.

To know...

To Know...

To just know and dive into the unknown.

The journey today from the experienced,

From the flesh until the wounds...

All moments in one... Me!

This I that had become the Me today.

This Me that sees the you,

This Me that senses the whole in here...

To know...

To just know the moment and dive into love...

Dancing all the learning that had not been learned.

To touch the void in trust with other...

Where the love is more than known,

Where the Love is the moment in motion.

To know...

To know the beloved before the eye...

How can I touch Honesty?

How can I touch honesty if I do not know where she lives?

How old is she and what she believes?

How can I see honesty if I am blind to what that means?

How that she feels and she creates on me?

I just can be honest with what I mean...

By what I say or even feel.

Mind can justify all meanings to it...

But in my vision no mind can fit.

Only by attention and acceptance...

I can feel what it is.

With courage to feel the instinct...

That talks more than any myth.

Vulnerability is the most of all,

Inside this honest meaning.

By touching this new born feeling,

When in tune with the fear of being.

The truth is just a mirror,

Where more than one reflection...

Can be sensed in all perfection.

But not just one is the honest possession...

Being all part of the same creation.

The same story can be told in separation...

By the moment of felt experimentation.

Than my love, I only can be me!

With no death sure of what this really means.

My life a story with many branches it seems,

All felt and lived in pure disharmony.

My being became ease with integrity...

By knowing what I do not want to see.

My senses mature to perceive the real...

By being pierced by what they had deceived.

Honesty can only be the door...

For the soul to be perceived.

And if this dance is not received...

Than the moment is never free.

For what that means is just a seed,

In this vast ocean of just being.

How can I touch honesty if I do not know where she lives?

How old is she and what she believes?

How can I see honesty if I am blind to what that means?

How that she feels and she creates on me?

Fear Pray

Fear is piercing me...

And the love had become to much to feel.

Connection and spell had rearrange this melody,

And this madness of not believing just is...

Creating a web of new emotions to be.

Oh ! Great Spirit

Please!

Do not deceive me,

My heart is full of suffering.

And I could not bare this dispel

If is a non-reality.

Death from grief of non-possibility.

Just allow myself to see,

Behind the fear of not seeing.

And help me to create a sacred possibility.

Please!

I do beg to this to be,

Has is seems to be.

And not a distorted perception...

Just tricking me.

Please!

Help me to create harmony,

Inside this madness that is free.

And it seems to fall into be.

Please!

Do not deceive me,

By showing that what I feel...

Is not manifest in Reality.

Please!

Help me to create...

A Vision that sees before fear,

That it seems to exist.

Please!

Do not tell me...

That this magical encounter,

Is not in fact what is just in here...

And do help me to see,

That everything is exactly...

What is meant to be.

Please!

Help me to believe in my own instinct

And do not blind me to what it represents to me.

Please! I do beg...

I am tired of this aggressive and abusive Reality.

Help me!

To hope that gentleness and compassion is the drive to go in.

Please!

Take the blind and make me see,

That everything is just in perfect frequency.

And the rest is just a fear of not seeing inside I-Reality.

Great Spirit...

Please!

I need to see that magic creation had come to me,

To just show me what is real in here.

Please!

Make this to be reality...

If not, just cut my own wings!

I am tired of being the non-being...

In this mad Society.

WOMAN CALL

Wild Songs from the Wind: WOMAN CALL: "Saw the moments of great words, Weaved between the mind and worlds... Felt the creation of man, Without judging the plan... Slept into t..."

WOMAN CALL

Saw the moments of great words,
Weaved between the mind and worlds...

Felt the creation of man,
Without judging the plan...

Slept into the dream of balance,
Accepting the rape of conscience.

Where is the Sacred Woman?
The Sacred femininity that does not speak...

Where is our nature?
The Sacred femininity that does not speak...

We are the balance...
We are the pure nature...
That feels and breaths the sacred feminine.

The power of the Sacred wind took our voice...
The man took our own feelings...
The religion took our own power...
The society shape us as equal by man´s eyes.

Where are our own prays?
Our own sacred mothering and sisterhood?
Our own medicine and our own voice?

The Woman voice needs to be heard
And Sacred Songs of purity to be sung...
Celebrating the old and new in our own souls...
And to become the Feminine power that we already are.

I call all women to gather around the fires
And discuss the future of Mother Earth...
She is calling us to comeback to our rotes...
And to see with the Sacred lens of what have been done.

Moments of Creation...

Waiting for the fountain to be,

Unavailing all the shadows in me.

Forbidden moments taken by you...

You! Wolf that bites without seeing,

That fire does not live without me.

Sacred was touched by poetry,

Where the kiss is more than melody.

Red vibration of rare penetration...

We! Passion of bold creation,

Weaving choices of fluid migration.

Spontaneity advised by patience,

Where aborted desires were created.

No mind was activated by imagination...

I ! The dreamer that does not see limitation,

Dancing the danger of matter and soul foundation...

Ocean of infinite possibilities,

Where consciousness lives before any creation...

And matter is just a dream of my own vibration.

Cosmic alignment of more that one imagination...

Where reality is just one being in relation,

Living in a soup of many from the same direction...

Being the desire to understand just an elevation.

Space and Time a non-Existence...

In the Light of Thought Creation.

Being the Mind a mere Reflection...

Of what Desire have for Direction.

Reason

Wheel of life that cares for death

More than a moment cares for breath.

Creation of being that sees clarity

Before reason sees reality...

Structure that feels parallelism

In a world of realism...

Realism without reason,

Creation without creator.

And we say that we can see...

What is there is reality!

And we say that we can know...

What we know in certainty.

Is someone there that really know me?

Someone...

That feels my visions and be my dreams,

That sees my wonders and my own thunders,

That listen my own frequency and just dances,

That walks into my moment and nothing takes,

That touches my wounds and see my passions,

That tells my own secrets and create new ones,

That sits in my own flight and become roots,

That be with the be and see me...

Someone...

That dances with the beats of one heart,

And see more that an one reflection.

That forms his own creation,

And sculpture his own soul.

Someone...

That is me and you,

in the mold of see.

That became one

With just the one.

Someone...

some one

one.

The dark and the light...

The creation of illusion;

Were the light is dark and the dark is light,

When what is not enlighten is the one to see.

"That" needs enlightenment to see behind the light,

Into the four corners of the soul in darkness.

"Were" all moments are there to be in experience,

By the moments of eternal time...