LIFE WITHIN LIFE

     The swallows arrived early this year, around the middle of February. I heard them for the first time one night around 4 a.m., when I was preparing to sleep not to rise. I think they really arrived during the night. And even through the dark night they found their way to their nest, the same that has been there since some years ago, just above the gate of my garage. What’s really amazing is that they seem so happy even here in the middle of the city, ignoring the cars and the people walking constantly along the street. And I never noticed any other swallows nest in my street or in any of the streets where I usually walk. Why did they choose precisely my street, my gate? A beautiful mystery that I prefer not to solve…

     But there’s a coincidence in this story that is impossible to ignore. You know what I’m talking about, my brother, don’t you? In our home up there, there was a swallows’ nest in the varanda. And every year the swallows would return there in Spring and would stay until the end of September or middle of October, depending on the weather conditions. When the first cold winds of Autumn began to blow they would go away. It was never a definite goodbye because we knew they would return next Spring. And they never missed a single time.

     Mother adored those swallows. When we weren’t living there anymore, mother would phone to announce their arrival: «They arrived today! It’s good to hear them singing again.» 

     Their nest was exactly above the window of her bedroom. They were the first to say good morning to her. In the afternoon she would sit on the varanda waiting for their return to the nest and only then she would get inside again. They made her days more complete. They were more life within life, remembering that life has many shapes, voices and souls. The swallows always coexisted peacefully with the many other birds that lived in the trees around. There was sky and space for everyone.

     Many times we talked at home about the possibility of closing that varanda with a marquise. During the warm seasons it was a wonderful cozy corner, but not in Winter; when the East or North cold wind was blowing it was freezing there. Father considered the marquise wasn’t necessary… mainly because it would be expensive… after all it is a big varanda, around 10 meters long. You and I could imagine it closed and being there in Winter catching the sun but not the cold wind. But mother always opposed to the idea, not because of the money or the temperature, but because the swallows had their nest there. And no one could touch that nest. I ended to agree with her, prepared to stand the cold in Winter just to have the privilege of having the swallows there. So that varanda stood opened for many years, the home of the swallows.

     After all of you were gone and I had to make all the decisions alone, I finally decided to close the varanda with a marquise, but I waited one year. I asked the men who were working there that the nest should remain there and gave orders to maintain the large windows always opened since the beginning of March. If the swallows returned they could enter and live in their nest as usual. All my worries and cares were in vain. When I returned there, some months later, the work was concluded… but they had removed the nest, alleging it was impossible to install the wood ceiling I asked, and the windows were all closed. I felt sad and angry for some time; then I saw swallows flying around the house and felt happy again. And they always returned in the following years until now.

     I’m anxious to go there in the beginning of April to see them again. I still didn’t find the place of their new nest but it must be near the house, perhaps in one of the old “pigeon houses” that exist in the fields around. Those “pigeon houses” look like windmills… I thought they were windmills when I was a child and used to ask “Where are the sails of the windmills?” Later I thought to myself that they didn’t need any sails because there were so many wings inside and around. They are still painted in white with red tile roofs. They fit perfectly in the landscape. They were already there before I was born, so to me they are really a part of the natural landscape.

     The popular adage says that “A swallow doesn’t make Spring”, but to me Spring always begins when the first swallow arrives. When I go out of home every day and I see them flying swiftly or hovering above my head I feel that Spring is here, even if it’s fresh or cloudy.

     Welcome the swallows, my brother. They come just from another continent but I see the reflection of your constellations in their eyes.

WITHIN LIFE

The soft warm breeze from the South
Is bringing a new energy
New wings, new flights, renewed landscapes
The hopeful colours in the horizon
Are bringing back the eternal warmth of life
The soft fresh rain is washing the sky
Until the deep infinite blue returns
A seed among seeds
A plant among plants
A tree among trees.
I behold and flow freely
New leaf in the tree, new page in the book,
Air and water, sand and sunlight.
The little bird born to be eternal
All dreams, the book of dreams
Opened to the paths of Time

Look within is looking deep around
I’m alive and within the whole
And the whole inhabits me
In its infinite shapes and realities.
I slowly become aware of what I am
Earth, grain of sand, tree, leaf, flower and fruit
The little bird, the cloud, the sky, the ocean
Inside and outside mingled in one
What I see, hear, taste, smell, touch
It’s what I am
Thankful I am
For being no one
Everything
Free to be
Just life within life
Tiny atom in the universe of creation

The first swallow arrives at dawn
To your distant constellation
To wake you up to a new Spring.
Now we are the same
You are no one now
You are everything
Air and water, earth and starlight
You are the seed, the tree, the dream
All dreams, the book of dreams
Opened to the paths of Time
Now what you are and what you dream are one
Now body and soul are the same
Now you are real, you exist
Now you are eternal flame
Life within life
Tiny atom in the universe of creation

Each day we leave our open home in the wild
Our doors and windows are our inner senses
Our treasures have no owner
They belong to the whole
Around and beyond we collect flowers, fruits
Dew, rainbows, atoms of dreams alive
Our days are as long as our needs and wishes
No hurries, no worries, no shadows
Only the night is dark and beautiful.
And when the sun goes down we climb to the highest tree
Just to be closer to the stars
And the immense dark sky smiles to us
Because we are no one
Together in our nothingness
Just happy to be here
A dream in the open book of dreams…

São Ludovino, 4/3/2015 – 2:43 a.m.

Inseparable I - The woman, the bird, the tiny ant, photography by São Ludovino.

 Inseparable II - The woman, the bird, the tiny ant, photography by São Ludovino.

 Hearing the sun II, photography by São Ludovino.

 Another stage I, photography by São Ludovino.

Cradle of seeds I, photography by São Ludovino. 

Lonely dreamer III, photography by São Ludovino. 

Sunny dreamers, photography by São Ludovino. 

 Companions III, photography by São Ludovino.

Glowing in the forest, photography by São Ludovino. 

Life within life V, photography by São Ludovino. 

 Life within life X, photography by São Ludovino.

Life within life XII, photography by São Ludovino. 

 Still naked I, photography by São Ludovino.

Welcoming the shinny days I, photography by São Ludovino. 

 Welcoming the shinny days II, photography by São Ludovino.

 Preparing the night IV, photography by São Ludovino.

Fertile forest I, photography by São Ludovino. 

Proficuous I, photography by São Ludovino. 

Many more will come I, photography by São Ludovino. 

The call of the ocean I, photography by São Ludovino. 

Sunny Eden I, photography by São Ludovino. 

 The sky is not the limit, photography by São Ludovino.

The infinite is the limit, photography by São Ludovino. 

Sleep serene and warm IV, photography by São Ludovino.

STAGES OF PERFECTION

     You were born at home, my brother, but in the big city, surrounded by a doctor and a nurse and the omnipresent vigilant look of grandmother Áurea. I was born in the middle of nowhere in an old stone house, only with the help of a midwife and the precious loving and strong hands of grandmother Áurea. In the beginning of a new life she was always there. Mother was lucky for having her.

     We were both born in January, the first air we breathed was the cold air of Winter. So we could only seek the warming sun. Spring wasn’t very far and that first Spring surely brought us the first of many moments of amazement, fulfillment and freedom. It was as if it was given to us the privilege of being born before that rebirth, to behold the eternal renewal of life at the dawn of our lives. In your first Spring you saw the blooming city gardens reawakening the joy of living. In my first Spring I saw the immense blooming mountain fields creating the most amazing painting of colours and sensations. Those fields fulfilled my soul with beauty and gave me the first impression of my fragility and tininess. I was just one more being amongst the untamable energy of the wild around and the universe beyond. The awareness of this process outside and within only came much later, but that first unconscious perception was surely decisive in our lives.

     You were born in the middle of the afternoon; I was born at the beginning of the night. Perhaps that’s why I always felt there was a second day within the day; a new day that always begins at nightfall. Perhaps that was why, when I was 4, 5, 6 I would wait until everybody fell asleep to get up again, very silently, and crawl around the house… to do nothing special, just to be there, feeling life, watching the moonbeams reflection through the curtains. Everything was peaceful and magic, a secret world of myself within the vast world of everybody. Watching my own hands dancing with the moonbeams was just the first stage of an endless creation of simple magic moments, with no other purpose besides the beauty of the moment. Moments out of time that remain until today. I still watch my own hands dancing and building multiple realities in the air. 

     When I remember the different places and ways we were born, I think that maybe that’s one of the reasons why I never had any ambitions, only dreams and missions. I never wished to possess nothing material in special or accomplish high social or professional objectives in life. Never cared or worried about having success or get recognition for this or that reason. It was exactly the opposite. It was as if I was always trying to pass unnoticed, just flowing naturally in time and life as any other natural thing. It was as if I wasn’t entirely human, more like a plant, a cloud, the wind, the birds or the waters of the ocean. That sensation still remains and still is very reassuring. 

     You had some concrete ambitions and accomplished some of them. When you were 6 you already wished to have a big house with a big garden and a big swimming pool… I always felt strange and awkward in expressing what I wanted. I only wanted to be alive, free and walking under the sun until the end of time… and, of course, learn, always learning everything. Now, how can anyone say this out loud, even a small child, without seeming a little crazy…? Yes, they thought there was something crazy about me. And they still say that I seem to float over reality the most of the times. Some years later I understood perfectly why but I didn’t stop being this way. What I see in front and around me is always the same thing, a magnificent bright path that always leads me to the sun. The sun isn’t beyond the path, it isn’t a final destination; it’s a constant companion that keeps walking by my side, in the brightest and in the darkest days of my life. It is still so mysterious to think that in those three days of Winter and beginning of Spring, when you, mother and father went away, the sun seemed to be shining brighter than ever. What more proof do I need to know that he’s always travelling by my side?

     Spring is knocking on my door in this earthly ground and at your door in the stars too. I wonder how is your Spring… Here, she walks slowly with her new dress of buds and colorful flowers. She’s like grandmother Áurea, loving, fragile and strong at the same time. She shows me again and again how everything changes without changing. Endless cycles of recreation that bring new energy and light to the old matrix of each soul. Stages and stages of perfection, time after time. Total perfection doesn’t exist, only stages of perfection. That’s why I know that the cycles within are also endless, an endless journey in life and time, here and among the stars. 

     I began to compile aphorisms in a notebook around 6. Some were quotations about something that I considered interesting or important, others came from my head. At 8 I wrote there: “Always do what is more difficult to do” and “Do well even the most insignificant thing”. I heard father repeating these words many times. I know I said I had no ambitions… but when I think about the ideas and principles that guided me since my childhood, I think that probably I am extremely ambitious… or perhaps I’m just an incorrigible idealist and dreamer. Well… on the other hand, perhaps not… If I wish that the days had 500 hours I also wish simple things like breathing pure air, walk in the sun or eat tasty strawberries… That’s a kind of ambition too, the ambition of a simple mind with a simple life like mine. Possible and impossible wishes and dreams, all stages of perfection…

       

APLLES FROM THE SKY


Don’t stop, you say
You ask me poems to breathe
Earthly air with cosmic senses
Apples from the apple trees
You left behind…
They’re still growing in every season
Upside down… the right way!
I know as you know
The roots are in the stars.
The fruits grow upon my head
Ripen, sweet and juicy
And never fall on the ground.

Strange new seasons
Those you brought to me
Things change constantly without changing
A new freedom envelops the senses
Not five, nor even one thousand
Inner reality is beyond all numbers
No time or need to fear time
No time left behind
No time or need to set or tame the clocks
Just now, an endless now,
Without beginning or end.
Now is always a beginning
An endless beginning… without end.

In the purest fountain
I wash your apples from the stars
With light thoughts and light hands
And while I taste the immaterial taste of this wisdom
I look around the soil, known and unknown
To find each and all the apple trees
You left behind
Voyager and gardener, you left your legacy
In the shape of apple trees
It was I who told you to plant them, until the end
It is I who eats the fruits
Within they become dreams
And dreams always become poems.

Don’t worry, I won’t stop
Life never stops, here or among the stars
Travelling sparkles of life-light.
Some things are meant to last forever
Some things are meant to last until the end of time
And time has no end.
I know as you know
Perfection doesn’t exist
That’s why we seek and find it
Time after time in so many new ways
Now is the beginning
Stages and stages of perfection
Season after season
Of hard and rewarding inner labor
That’s why we are mortal and immortal
Because we are not perfect
We just have perfect dreams
And that’s enough to follow the stages
Light and soft is our path
Because we know where we are going
Now, in each now, we only need to know how
We know how… now we know
This is only and always the beginning
Isn’t life perfect, after all?

São Ludovino, 17/2/2015 - 3:27 a.m.

Stages of Perfection I, photography by São Ludovino.

 Really Pure I, photography by São Ludovino.

 First steps of Spring IX, photography by São Ludovino.

Countdown to the shiny days II, photography by São Ludovino. 

 Life within life I, photography by São Ludovino.

Rythms of Time III, photography by São Ludovino. 

Bringing more light I, photography by São Ludovino. 

Simply shining III, photography by São Ludovino. 

Simply shining V, photography by São Ludovino. 

First steps of Spring III, photography by São Ludovino. 

One more life in life II, photography by São Ludovino. 

Stages of perfection II, photography by São Ludovino. 

Still growing II, photography by São Ludovino. 

 Still growing IV, photography by São Ludovino.

The day within the night I, photography by São Ludovino. 

Soul Mirrors I, photography by São Ludovino. 

Inner Labour I, photography by São Ludovino. 

Roof of clouds in the jungle II, photography by São Ludovino. 

 Painting winter skies I, photography by São Ludovino.

 Conversation in the Forest I, photography by São Ludovino.

 A Place to Shine I, photography by São Ludovino.

The Strength of Dreams II, photography by São Ludovino. 

A Bridge in the Forest I, photography by São Ludovino. 

 Ages after ages I, photography by São Ludovino.

 A star is born I, photography by São Ludovino.

Butterfly home I, photography by São Ludovino. 

Butterfly home II, photography by São Ludovino. 

Butterfly home III, photography by São Ludovino. 

Twin dreamers II, photography by São Ludovino. 

 In all seasons I, photography by São Ludovino.

 Circle of life III, photography by São Ludovino.

 Petrified dreamer I, photography by São Ludovino.

Winter companion, photography by São Ludovino. 

 Winter companions, photography by São Ludovino.

A place to live, photography by São Ludovino.