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The gentle breeze of golden conviction

THE GENTLE BREEZE OF GOLDEN CONVICTION Let us agree that I have waited for this moment, chosen to be born in this time: to feel the pressure against my chest, this air I breathe, the living experience of extinguished moments, like echoes reinventing themselves in ephemerality. Even without forgetting my past, I walk embracing the shadows I accepted and turned into light. Gently, I distance myself from what I am not, seeking the essence of what I aspire to be. For the soul, dwelling in the interval between yesterday and tomorrow, finds rest in the forge of the present. I consolidate two selves into one. Not through the violence of union, but through the harmony that dissolves opposites. On the banks of the river of life, I glimpse a boy with a forgotten face—the reflection of a former self, the shadow of who I was, and the promise of who I may yet become. The forest fairies whispered prophecies into my ear, and from them, I crafted disillusions that turned into nightmares. The experienc...
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Ode to Christ

ODE TO CHRIST I recognize the Trinity, Oh Holy Christ who bloomed in the flower of youth. I absorb your divinity, Oh Holy scorned one who died without vanity. They gave you a day of birth, but they celebrate themselves, not your worth. For it matters not to You if they adore, it matters not if prayers are poured. What draws You close to their soul is the harmony of deeds and heart as a whole. For what good is celebrating Your birth if no Christ is born on this Earth? If no soul truly transcends today the bonds of matter and servitude’s sway. And so they scorn You once more, believing they celebrate the suffering Lord, But in truth, they live for themselves as they did before. Oh Holy One, resting in eternal silence, awaiting humanity to open its essence. For Your kingdom is not in the distant skies, but in the soul that beats where life truly lies. Let today, on this feigned day of devotion, a Christ be reborn in every emotion. And let love, so simple and subversive, be the miracle of ...
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I Present to You the Best I Can Offer

I Present to You the Best I Can Offer I cast within myself the questions that refine my knowledge. I am distancing myself from myself in a way I cannot describe. Something beautiful remains alive, even as I notice the dead shells of my skin in transformation. I still find myself clinging, in no hurry to return to the starting point from which I departed. I feel in my soul an inexplicable force guiding my steps, throwing me from side to side, embracing friendly encounters, and reconnecting with people and situations from my past. Yet, I confess I do not know if this will be my last life on Earth, as I find myself repeating actions, reliving wounds, leaving doors open with no goodbyes. Understand me; do not read me harshly, but perhaps your reasons for living are not mine. I feel attachment and detachment. I feel incomplete, understood in a misunderstood way, open in a closed way: living the present, relinquishing the past, and without long-term plans for the future. Something in me sens...
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Who Was I Before You?

 WHO WAS I BEFORE YOU? You don’t know how it hurts, you can’t imagine the pain, you don’t feel how it bleeds. I am broken, completely shattered, crying for me, for you, and for all the feelings I built with you. Without knowing why, I lost a brother, a friend. Hey Lord, why did I let this happen to me? Why was I cursed, enslaved, and tortured by a passion that deafens my ears, curling me inside the dark womb of an invisible sorrow? Why does it hurt so much? And when will it stop? I don’t want to collect so much pain, I don’t want to suffer in vain. Not knowing if I can still hope, not knowing if I can still have you. Throwing myself into the cold abyss called sadness. Carrying this mourning, this wound that won’t heal, this cry that no one hears. And yet, I keep dreaming of you, waking by your side, listening to your boyish voice. I wake up wondering, rising without strength, with this hole in my chest, with this memory that bitters my tongue and makes my bones tremble with fear. W...
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From my present self

  FROM MY PRESENT SELF Part One I am writing this letter to you and me. I know time has passed and that it will always pass. I want to see you fly; I want to learn to love. I write to you so that you may know how to listen and appreciate, recognizing that death may come, but life will never end. I speak with the voice of a soul that feels the purity of existence, decently surrendering to innocence. I know which paths have brought you to me, and I also know that nothing is by chance, that there is no true end. I lovingly embrace our certainties and place the empty glass on the table with the serenity of one who accepts what is. I leave blank spaces in this letter for you to fill and savor the sweetness of life. I tell you that I love myself by loving you and feel you by feeling myself, for we are one, inhabiting different sides until we simply cease to be. From me to you, from your past to our present.
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A Little of What We Lack

  A LITTLE OF WHAT WE LACK I lack the words to translate the feelings I carry, like winds dancing among mountains. I sense you in the distance, even when you’re so near, like an island floating in the heart of the sea. The warmth brings us closer, stitching two bodies into the present, immersed in the same current of life, breathing the same breath of the universe, bathed in the light of an eternal moment. In the confusion of thoughts that orbit our souls, I perceive the dance of illusion and truth. Darkness guides me inward, while the breeze accompanying you passes through me like an echo of something that has always existed. I feel myself moving forward while you are returning, and in that motion, our lives cross like rivers meeting the ocean. Your voice, innocent like the child we once were, and your presence, steady like a rock, awaken in me the desire to possess. But then I remember: a part of me already rests in you, like a flame that warms without consuming, leaving marks...
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In the Rhythm of Existence

IN THE RHYTHM OF EXISTENCE I sit on the bench in the square and watch the day unfold: the child running, the bird in flight, the sweat dripping in beads from my brow. Alone in an unfamiliar and sweltering place, I find myself. I sleep on the bench, knowing that I will rest here again tomorrow and perhaps the day after. Such are the chapters of my journey, and some hidden part of me savors the vulnerability, the lack, the fragility of it all. As I walk with my heavy, red backpack slung over my shoulders, I reflect on the ways of being. There are three ways to perceive, two ways to feel, and only one way to be. I do not claim this as absolute truth, but as a truth that nourishes, germinates, and transforms, carrying us from one state to another, from liquid to vapor. I receive food from the hands of strangers, silently grateful for those who give without expectation, as I tread up and down the hills. Perhaps my father is not proud of my chosen path, but what pride matters more than that ...
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The last sunday of my life

  THE LAST SUNDAY OF MY LIFE Dear friend who reads me, Once more, I invoke your presence, hoping that by channeling your energy, the day will become brighter, dispelling the shadows that hover over the sky I have called life. As I focus on your essence, I reflect on the steps I still have left to climb. A whisper of fear calls to me from the future, and though the path seems familiar, I feel something unforeseen will cross my way. Today, standing atop a mountain, I gaze upon the vastness unveiled before me. And in this pinnacle of clarity, a fervent and strangely delightful yearning to leap into the final flight with this mortal body washes over me. Within me dwells a reverent love for death and a profound respect for life. Yet, my deepest desire is to transcend attachments, gratefully embracing all that fate lays before me. I am ready to welcome both sorrow and joy, for they are the threads that weave the tapestry of existence. I shall not sow hatred, nor political or religious ap...
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A Declaration

  A DECLARATION (2020) With Daniel Assunção I gazed at my reflection for countless moments, letting thoughts flow like waves across an inner ocean. Rarely did I long to feel the gift that arose in your presence. For with you, I transcended the mere act of breathing and the solid ground beneath my feet. I found a pause in the cycle of self-denial and disdain as if your essence were a gentle invitation to redemption. Each moment by your side becomes a fragment of an ideal I yearn to manifest. I cannot stray further from life, for my heartbeat has become an offering at the altar of your existence. My body, a terrestrial temple, finds in you a mystery it longs to revere. And though your eyes have never met mine, my soul has already resolved to unveil itself before you, and so I... ...shared the heavens with you... To exist is to breathe you in. My lungs take in your breath and grant me life; you dwell within me. As long as I have memories, our moments will remain enshrined in a sacred,...
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Living Can Not Always Be Resisting

LIVING CAN NOT ALWAYS BE RESISTING  I review my body from afar and feel a certain strangeness in not identifying with what I see. My body is not me, my flesh does not belong to me, and, for this reason, I do not step firmly on this ground. If I am not my body, with this wrapping, I reaffirm the darkened side, the senseless coldness, and the restless heart. I am not the mirror that reflects me, I am not what I once imagined, for I kept my distance and burned me by choice, ashen in the multiple colors, conditioning the vase without flowers. By telling you my truth and fleeing from vanity, I distanced myself from all seductive stimuli, darkening within until I became pure cement. Conditioned by time, crushed by the wind, petrified by my own venom. Until the unexpected happens, and something lands upon me, and, slowly, I see my fragments fall, my ivory skin, sculpted by the chaotic and progressive wreckage. "I am on the verge of vanishing," I think as I watch the Sun rise again, ...
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Bittering my poem

  BITTERING THE POEM WITH YOUR SUGAR Mad are those who feel saved, for salvation cannot be eternal. Illusion disturbs the minds of the afflicted, wounding the feet of those who walk inverted. The dome of sickness found the cure and hid it from the rest. Dressed in a darkened veil, at the speed of aimless darkness. Today the mad one is the one who represses, opening their arms to the wind, flying like one who never touches the ground. Saying this and slowly losing, tasting without commitment the fleetingness and truth of every moment lived. I spit on the soil of your chest, with wet clay I cover your lips with a kiss. And for freeing you from servitude, now I am the one in danger, for I tamed the lion and released the sheep into the pasture of the dual world, in the celestial game seeking what is real.
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Loving As a Brother

LOVING AS A BROTHER I wrote my last poem, certain that it won’t be the last. I gave you my last hug, knowing I’d touch your body for the last time, but I’d embrace your soul again. I gathered from the ground my scattered pieces, the sorrow of leaving, but the comfort of feeling your support. I love you like a brother, I desire you like a mother, and I want you with all the loose fragments of your heart. I see stars in the sky, so distant yet so close to me. And I see you by my side, knowing that your death won’t be your end. I scatter the final seeds, so they may grow in your body and bloom in your mind. Because I know you are free and deserve the infinite radiance. You were never mine, neither your body nor my goodbye. You have nothing because nothing binds you; you have everything by holding an innocent heart. I will love you in every form of life, I will find you in my DNA. For you are blood of my blood and child of my Father. I’ll say goodbye at the right time, knowing life is but ...
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