First Sunday of November

FIRST SUNDAY OF NOVEMBER

I write this letter to friends that common eyes cannot see, who circle my head, transcending the questionable essence of what is seen and felt, as I experience the end of yet another season, with emotions facing the duality of life and the illusion of what can truly die.

I maintain a certain firmness in my unsteady steps, for part of me knows exactly where it wants to go, where the material condition draws me, holds me, and purges me. All my confessions are like wide-open books and soil that absorbs water, moistening the walls of an open cage.

I type my sentences in rhymed phrases, with words that bind us. Because deep down, we know how everything ends, and the inevitable sense of loss makes us turn to the tangible embrace of Mother Nature. On this Sunday morning, I wake up feeling alone, but the wind entering through the window and softly touching my skin awakens me from the dream, wrapping me in the angels' prism.

I observe how the night was followed by day, the drunkenness of drink, and the disturbing escape that drives my mind to madness, distancing me from the friends who are here. How long will I play this game, feeling the anxiety, the weariness, and the fatigue, questioning the gods about the reason and answer that keep me in this life? For I want to be ready for the departure, living all my days consciously.

For it is not Death that I fear, but the benevolence of Life, and the birds from the north fly together, dancing in the transient blue sky of this beautiful world. Isn’t everything connected to the universal web of the Cosmos, which expands and contracts, showing us that, even in old age, we are still children, ripening our souls in the thick veil of the dual game, questioning our true identity before ourselves?

I grow, think, ponder, and question everything that happens to me. I feel I am moving away from something, for I no longer hear your voice in my heart; but every time I focus on the song, I shed sweet tears of hope, sensing that the seed of self-realization still lives within me, because I want to live a love for the world, a mature altruism that connects what we are to Perfection, Love, and Justice that destroys and builds all plans and all worlds.