LadyMoon - Philisophical &Spiritual Poe

Why Do We Dress The Soul?

I find myself frequently thinking

Why we dress the soul…

We should leave her always nude, innocent

Like nature

You leave her simply to bloom

Like a rural plant

To absorb the love, as she captures the sunshine

That peeps among the morning thick fog

And let her fall asleep covered by the mantle of the moonlit

Because my soul is simple

In that it sees the simple things

It likes to speak with nature

And question many times

How do we feel the flowers of the vases

And the ones of the stonemasons in the gardens

Compared with the ones that are born in the meadows and in the forests

Yes, because the sun that crosses the high whiteness of the forest

It is not the same that enters through the windows of a house

And the sun that stretches on the meadows

It is not the same as it is when it peeps over the wall of a garden

It is then I think…

Do the plants have a soul to notice that?

It is again I wonder…

Why we dress the soul?

I am confused in my inner ocean

Swimming in these uncertain waves

With the moon in the horizon

Feel With Imagination

For among seas of fears

And murmuring silences

I’ve learned ....

To feel with imagination

Before feeling with the heart

To enjoy the feeling that moves me

To save the dreams that I want to dream

To follow the pulsing of my body

Which tells me of its lived experience

And I give freedom to my soul

To suffice itself

I am a daughter of the earth

of the sun and of the moon

I want to conquer the world in a single hug

I want a life of whole body

And in a daring that amazes me

I want a love so full, so immense

Within Myself…

There are times

When I lie down with the nature

I feel her soul

I feel her confound with mine

I let myself diverge in its multiplicity

And I give up of me

Of my wanting

I follow her

To be beyond me

I'm too incomplete

To remain only within myself…

Taken by the spirit of the sun

I follow there, the mystic of my I

Ignoring the mysteries of the thought

Observing from outside

The landscape of my soul

Harvesting another consciousness

Poetic, almost divine

Plain of harmony

And That, that was my soul restlessness

Solace in the tranquillity that finds

With in myself

Wondering Thoughts …

Sometimes I hear my thoughts

They are like sensations

I can feel them, smell them

Even taste them

They can be too eager

To live all at once

And there are times I think

That I should learn to forget

To forget all those lived sensations

To forget everything, mainly people

I still sense

And learn them again

Certain people are bubbles

Passengers, fragile

If we touch them they dissolve

Some are more beautiful than the other ones

But their beauty is in the way I see them

If I simply like them

Or if I learn to like them

Then I find them more beautiful

But it should not be like this

We should find them all beautiful

It is why I think we should learn to forget

So we learn to like them again

Even those that I never liked

It is good to always be learning

To learn people

To learn the feelings

To learn to see the other ones

As we see ourselves

If I was a Poet...

Some poets are philosophers
others, simply dreamers

there are also the poets who are artists

they work their verses

as if they are carving a sculpture

But I am not a poet
I only let my pen flow as I feel
Without thinking, like breathing
Like a primitive being
That sees the daily sun being born

As if it was for the first time

I don't see mystery in the poetry
She springs from the soul as a river

Made of pure moments
In this imperfect world
And I enjoy her beauty

Leaving my senses
To feel her inner life

Because I Exist

Everyday I discover things

And i am amazed with this reality

then I feel complete

because I am part of it

because I exist

When I observe the nature around me

I just try to feel the things

I look at a stone, there on the ground

and I admire it, not for its beauty

but for its insensibility

the things of the nature are also insensible

But I like to feel them

Like when I feel the wind touch me slowly

I like the touch of the wind

but I find her sad, embittered

even when she is calm as she is today

or stormed, hitting everything in her passage

I cant imagine her without feelings

The sea…

The sea has an enormous power over me

I simply adore her

I can hear her murmuring smoothly

Like a caress

she seems to be resting from the tormenting days

it must be because it is spring

also because the sun has joined us

sometimes I forget that the she is not a person

because I can understand what she says

I think she likes to talk with me

and I with her

But the moon is jealous and she decided to joined us

it is not normal for moon to appear during the sun light

she is beautiful, full

between two white clouds that decorate the sky

we welcome to the moon

I also like the moon

I like the soft, velvet moonlight

I am happy, in my favourite picture

Without Thinking….

I am born at each moment
In the eternal innovation of this world
For roads and shortcuts
Desiring the innocence of not thinking

I sit down under the tree
She lends me her shadow
It covers me with her perfume
Without asking me anything in exchange

That one, another tree
She gives wonderful fruits
Without worrying with whom eats them
Because a tree doesn't think
Why should she think?
It is enough to make us happy

I close the curtains of my eyes
Not to think in the sense of the things
To be simple and calm
Like the tree and the flowers
I let the sunshine penetrate me
Because the sun is natural
And her light is innocent

The horizon calls my eyes
And I let them go without thinking….

© 2007 Fernanda F. Rocha. All rights reserved

Daughter Of The Light

She came to my life

Like a sunbeam

Touching my isolated soul

Burning in my own abyss

She showed me how to see things

From within myself

As if it was from a landscape

The landscape of my soul

To see how imperfectly divine we are

Because we are simply humans

She thinks like she dreams

Irradiating light in each smile

Transmitting peace in each word

Defoliating life as if it was a flower

with a whole soul, guiltless

Touching me so deeply

The flame of life

She looks at me in silence

and in secret she asks me for myself

who am I and what I dream

there is so much peace in her look

I don't know what to tell her

I am captured by that hypnotic gaze

as I surrender to my will

it’s an enormous will to stay

She listens to me murmuring in silence

she sees the pain sculpted within my soul

she caresses the eternal storms

of my exalted loves

Her voice is deep, immense

it protects me from dark dreams

she undresses the night of her mystery

and tells me about the sea and of the saudade

She shows me human madness

and how we would be without that madness

she lights the flame of life

and dances like one who moves with the earth

She takes me by the hand and smiles

tells me never to stop dreaming

but also, to dream of the invisible forms

and an undiscovered love

To Be a Poet

To be a poet is to be a dreamer
To harvest a flower with a glance
To dream like one who breathes, naturally
Not wanting to understand more than is felt
To love just for love, hopelessly
To kiss like one who dreams, innocently

To be a poet is to embrace madness
To live in an eternal search
To be reborn in each moment
To be a vagabond of thinking
To see life happening and smile
To rest in a fatigue of being

To be a poet is to be a Painter
To paint like one who learns, with fervour
To exalt love like those who are loved
To keep gazing at the ignited flame
To yell to the world with ardent passion
To feel a contented discontent

© 2007 Fernanda F. Rocha. All rights reserved

A Soul Of Poetry
.
She came with a mission
But she forgot it
Becoming unaware of her own self
Rambling in the unconsciousness
Of Life's drowsiness
Letting the time pass before her eyes
Without seeing it
Looking at the roads that follow her
The roads of her steps
Unknown to her she followed
The footsteps of her own making
.
One day
The time that was passing, stopped
Without knocking, entered
Tenuously
Ascended a consciousness of life
Questioning herself...
Why does she exist?
.
She looks back
Through that consciousness
And she met a tedium wall
To be thrown down
Pieces of rage, drifting
To be reconciled
Echoes of life, muffled
To be comprehended
A closed heart
Listened
.
She realizes...
On that brief glimpse of life's horizon
A cheerful conscience of
The lightness of the unconsciousness
Like a charming melody
Revealing itself
As a soul of poetry
.
© 2007 Fernanda F. Rocha. All rights reserved

Drawing a thought ...

In this dance that is life

Sometimes, dreams are triturated

For hostile realities

Implacable ironies

Abysses of egoisms

Or just...

Human fragilities

We are all orphans of love...

I need to escape

From the dreams' thieves

Drawing in my thought

A sentiment

O a dreamed life

To be lived

Born in a world

Of Sacred passions

Innocent feelings

In a transparent soul

Profound

Where reason is sublime

And love is not temporal

A Being’s Manifesto

Mystic eyes cross themselves

Plots of enchantment are read

Bodies so light they barely touch

No gags silencing the silence

Heavy breaths…

A long embrace is formed

In a unlinking of forms

Of an interior vision

Comes a human existence

In an unique individual thought

Full of untouchable moments

Indifferent to its path

From a lazy nostalgia

Raises an eulogy to desire

Souls crossing the fire

Vagrant bodies

Mouths crushed

Delicious symbols of pleasure

Exhausted incognitos

In a being’s manifesto

Time

There is so much time
So much
That the source dried
The sun perished
The trunk withered
And the thirst died

There is so much time
So much
That the days are centuries
The nights are wrinkled
The space a drained tumult
And the air a bale

There is so much time
So much
That the death is carried
The grief is swallowed
The thunder vanished
And everything faded

My Heart Is A Thinker

My heart is a thinker

It’s not enough for it to feel

Sometimes my heart thinks and aches

Those thoughts hurt its feelings

The ones that worry it

Those that make the soul ill…

My eyes rest on the landscape

But my heart cannot rest, cannot stop

My heart is relaxed by the silent sound of the land

And the borrowed image of my eyes

Softens the storms of his thoughts

On the fatigue of her thoughts

Within the her own fatigue

My heart beats mostly, a life of love

Giving the soul the energetic fire of passion

That vibrates, forgetting her anxieties

My heart is a thinker

I wish I could paint his thoughts

His sensations and feelings

Like Michelangelo

Eternalizing his sentiment

Especially the ones of you

She shares with me…

The Other Side Of Life

I dreamed that I died
Everything in me extinguished
The scarce light
Faded slowly
And all my body froze

Then, a little later
A strong light appeared
And I
The one who dreamed that I had died
Who felt the cold of death
Discovered that I lived
When the night was made day

I felt myself rise in space
I saw myself abandon my body
Leaving another one
Of that one that there I saw
And in a light that tore night
A life of another was born

That ravishing light
It was a calling
An encounter
It was the life of the which I was born
Calling me again to itself

It was sweet that lightness
It was the dream of my dream

You will return, it's said
You didn't accomplish your stage
You will return one day