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...

Stillness from the frozen wind
Where the shadow have no name...

White dust born in memories
Where the magician is the frame...

Path marks from the soul
Where nobody is part of the game...

Forms of no existence
Where Tv is the only giver....

Snow into the soul
Where the ones are receiving...