our hands

we are holographic fragments of the great central infinity sky being....
wherever we are, if we raise our hands-antennas, we materialize
the highness' spectra
We are part of the unknown that sonorizes, the
presence of breathing...
Wherever we are, we rise the inner flight if we want...there's the
bridge that raises the hands towards the highness of the own being
as if the sky and the clouds was corporeal paintings, as in days of indigenous
and paganist reverence gatherings...
we are the dance when it's about to born....said the one who suddenly
started to dance ......and never stopped dancing........

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Birds of flaming wings

Birds of flaming crossed nights
Full of roses that bright
the singing chords that lie
in paths of doubts that rise
colorful arms of trices
leaking the sweat of times
embouldering beings of life
to keep turning the face on of the unseen brave eyes.........

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Yet child

Keep on being young and a child. That is the most valuable thing -- if one can persist in being a child. And keep the image of a child of three years old... because it is between three and four that civilisation enters.
Up to the third year a child lives in a totally different world: in the mysterious, in the wonderful, in the fantastic. The child lives in the psychedelic. All is full of colour and potentiality and poetry, and everything thrills him. It does not matter what it is -- just pebbles on the seashore. Everything has immense beauty. The child has eyes for it. He is open from everywhere, he is not yet closed. He is not yet sophisticated and destroyed... he is still primitive.
It is always good to go for a walk with a three or two-year-old child and to commune with him, to see what he is doing, to see how he walks and how he becomes interested in everything. A butterfly or a flower or a dog barking and the child is involved with each moment so totally. Only the child knows how to live, or when one again becomes a child, one knows how to live. In between there is only misery and hell.
So keep this idea of a two or three-year-old. Let that be your reality and your chronological age just a social phenomenon, just a facade. Just from the outside be grown-up; from the inside remain a child. And when you are alone, drop all your grown-upness; it is not needed.
Behave like a child. And it will be good -- play with small children.
Sometimes take them, go for a walk on the seashore or anywhere -- in a garden -- and just behave like them; don't force them to behave like you. Just follow them and you will find new insights arising in you.
You are close to a second birth, that's why you are feeling this. And when a man is born again, when one attains to a second birth in life, all is attained; there is nothing else to attain.
Don't allow anything to hinder it, because nothing is more valuable than this. And always remember jesus. He goes on saying to his disciples, 'Unless you are a child again, you will not enter into the kingdom of god.' Heaven is only for the innocent. For the clever and cunning and the calculating there is only hell.
Sometimes it will be very frightening to feel like a child because then you become so vulnerable, so open, and anybody can hurt you. You become so helpless again... but that helplessness is beautiful. To be vulnerable is beautiful; to be hurt sometimes is beautiful. Just to avoid those hurts we become hard, we gather a crust, very steel-like, an armour. It is safe but it is dead.
Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket