Top of the Indomitable Winds (The desert rose)

Top of the Indomitable Winds

At the top of Judea, in Massada “Top of the Indomitable Winds”, your soul was trapped by the sweet and perfidious dreams of Morpheus. This one, invaded the blue cave of your feelings, trying to disconnect you from the crude existential reality. And eternally, you reflected on your supreme happiness, under the neem tree. You could not buy a glimpse of his accomplice love, but you understood that his freedom was more important than your own well-being. In your personal sphere, you greatly respected your enormous dignity. In your I, in your inner being, all races were equal in the immensity of the cosmic universe. You were from different ethnic groups, but you shared the same human essence. Your attributes were very beautiful, and he was, in just a moment, bewitched, enchanted with your beautiful eyes torn, jet black. And with your hair curled in the wind, your stealthy gait was similar to an African gazelle, a wild and exalted tigress. You had your own wings, and you flew to the highest peaks. You were the most beautiful of all the town, like the lotus flower that embellishes the transparent and calm lakes. Your psalms were proclaimed by all the counties, even those farthest from the underground worlds. The spiritual entities, who lived there, commented on your existence and your most daring deeds.
They will never forget your precious name, freedom. Poetic freedom in your soul of pure light, as a daughter of the sun and the moon. Freedom to recite Sanskrit mantras to the beautiful Mother Earth, in the most calm and serene nights. Mythological entities, fairies riding in sumptuous cars and winged unicorns, illuminated your sweet and beautiful smile. In the celestial place lived the purest souls: beautiful white steeds, symbols of your great kindness. They lived contemplating, as ascetics, the absolute and perpetual truth. And in the darkness of the abyss, they rode black steeds, symbols of unbridled passion to the infinite universe. But above all, reason governed in this celestial paradise. In an instant, only the winged white steeds were able to descend into this world. And their spirits were incarnated in beautiful muses, daughters of the human race. They were muses of Greek poets, libertarian muses, to extol freedom in the poetic heart of the people.
They shared their teachings with their most faithful followers, disciples of moral virtue and spiritual justice. Their friendship was so deep that it left indelible marks, tattooed on the fine white sand. It was the most valued universal and immaterial value for its loyalty. Subtle spirits, incorruptible spirits of divine nature, ruled the celestial world until the coming of the fallen angels. They chose the future fathers of the human race, in different and different ethnic groups. When the sky roared intense flames of fire, their avid eyes were lit, like torches by fear. And they descended through the rainbow tunnel to the beautiful and sweet life. Their cries and sobs, for the eternal darkness, awakened all the peoples who anxiously awaited their magical return. They sought perfection and divine understanding. An intelligible extension of spirits, fragile and immortal, used their best tool the sense of reason, to choose a better world. A more human world, full of drawn smiles, in its violet sunsets, in its skies and luminous stars. They worked with absolute freedom and sincerity. There were no walls, no borders that divided human races. All beings were equal, in this idyllic and dreamlike world, sweet brothers of fiery blood. Possessing enormous courage and courage, they proclaimed to the wind the sense of equality and solidarity. They did not fear death, nor cruel treacheries. They were just trying to coexist in a metaphysical plane of freedom. They did not know the chains of slavery, nor the thunderous rays of the fury of the gods. And you, mother, emerged from nowhere, you emerged beautiful with your curly hair and your sweet melodious voice. You were a beautiful angel, full of silver light, which lit my iridescent eyes to the longed utopia. With your privileged mind, you wrote beautiful poetic verses, sonnets immersed in ancestral memories. Recorded memories, with letters of sweat and blood, to understand the suffering and suffering pain of true love.
I was sad to contemplate you, in low moments of your existence, when your sweet tears slipped, caressing your rosy, divine cheeks. Cheeks soaked by the calm, peaceful rivers, of your sorrows and agonies. Your childhood was hard and painful, you soon lost your innocence to a fearful maturity. Your frank smile, pure and white, like cotton clouds at dawn. Your black eyes, rebars of stars in the aurora. Your skin, of hot porcelain, glowed hot under the rising sun of Egypt. On the terracotta carpet of the desert, your silhouette walked stealthily, like soft perfumed rose, capricious. Mother, you were goddess of the seas, oceans and celestial roofs. Beautiful, like the tender spring flowers. From the beginning, you transmuted your soul into a wild gazelle, a heron-free spirit flying over the forests, in a silver hummingbird in the golden kingdom of Shambhala. You were, in the other existential realms: Hathor, goddess of love and supreme beauty; Isis, Egyptian goddess of magic; Ushas, ​​Indian goddess of the aurora. When the flame lit the candle of my heart, saddened and angry, your mother embraced me with sweetness. You held me gently, in your lap, to kiss my small feet and my thin trembling hands. And you lulled me in your warm arms, with the smell of cinnamon sticks. What pleasant memories, lived in those sweet moments!
You always took care of me, with determination and vigilance. You instilled in my spirit, the most plausible sense of courage and honesty. With you I learned to forgive without error, my cruelest enemies. The word forgiveness turned it into a badge and a white flag, rocking the mirage of your farthest horizon. Borderline and sense of your humble destiny. Random and captive destination. You made honesty a paramount supreme value and a universal feeling in your imaginary world, where love and peace really reigned. You felt longing for your arid, red earth, from your native land, but soon you emigrated to a better world, in search of the most absolute perfection. You just pretended to be happy, in the midst of despair. Traitorous despair, deceit and vain hypocrisy. You wove a dense spider’s web, indescribable, trapping, in your small living space, to overcome the hatred of your enemies. But you always forgave them, they did not deserve you to mention a single word, about their names, or pronouns. For me, mother, you will always be the celestial princess, my bright sun and my burning moon. And in the eternal present, you are my life and my innate essence, at every moment. Your eyes are faithful mirror, reflection of the beauty of your noble soul, like the clear water of the waterfalls, in my beloved Himalayas.

Maika Etxarri
Page 96

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Soy un espíritu libre poeta, enarbolando la bandera de la paz y libertad, en este universo existencial. Vivo en el eterno presente, aquí y ahora, bajo el poder del amor, sin la incertidumbre del mañana, sin la esclavitud del nuevo orden establecido mundial. Maika Etxarri Escritora, poeta, blogger y fotógrafa Autora del libro: La rosa del desierto
Esta entrada fue publicada en Cima de los Vientos Indomables, Cima de los Vientos Indomables (la rosa del desierto), Sin categoría, Top of the Indomitable Winds (The desert rose). Guarda el enlace permanente.


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