— I’m back, principessa! — Shouted the wind very excited to the persistent cloud. — I missed you sooooo much! You are really different from the other clouds… In the last days I crossed the world at least one hundred times and I didn’t meet a single cloud like you… You really are persistent! Though I still can’t understand your persistence… or what you are doing with such dedication…
— The dedication isn’t really mine… I’m only an observer. It seems you never stop enough time anywhere to be able of understanding anything… understand and feel. And if you don’t feel you can’t understand, doesn’t matter how smart you are. And if you don’t understand you can’t feel. That’s just an empty circle of void. All the true revelations come from your soul not from your brain… Your soul can understand and feel at the same time… Your brain will never be able to feel even what you think you understand… Brains are always the kingdom of illusion… Hearts and souls are the realm of true life and wisdom… open the doors and windows of your soul, clean your brain, blow inside your mind from time to time and behold with limpidity your true self… — the persistent cloud uttered in her simple dialectics.
— Are you trying to give me some kind of life lesson?! I never went to school, I never read a book and I don’t have a clue about what Philosophy is… So, probably, I’m absolutely incapable of learning lessons of life… — the wind confessed in a sincere tone.
—Well, in what concerns academic knowledge. I certainly don’t know more than you… My school was the sky, my books are written by the wandering waves of the sea and the only philosophy that I know is the one that springs directly from my heart. Nature was my only teacher and guide and though I know that I am quite ignorant, I’d say that some kind of wisdom inhabits my soul. Besides, lessons of life can’t be taught… You have to learn each and all by yourself. In a certain way, that’s what I’m doing now while I observe the endless task of the little bird… Now my days are filled with contemplation of pure beauty… The whole Universe is being recreated all around us… Can you see her now? — The cloud asked anxious to return her attention to what was happening below.
— Yes, I think I’m seeing her… Only I can’t see all those wonders you talk about around us… I can only see some sparkles of light and colour floating in the air… I can see the long sand field along the sea, I can see that strange luminous woman bathing in the water and walking along the beach… and I still see the lost sailor sitting there on the same spot throwing stones to the water… To be absolutely sincere, I can’t see much change or evolution. Everything seems pretty much the same around here… — the wind confessed with some disappointment.
— I was expecting that you said that. You have very powerful eyes but you only see the surface. You are able to see a grain of sand among millions but you can’t see the beauty within that grain of sand… And what is happening here is colossal, huger than all the grains of sand, all the mountains and oceans, all the planets and stars… A whole Universe is growing below and around us… I just hope that one day you are able to see it… not with your eyes, or you won’t ever see it, but with your soul… Blow inside your mind, restless rider… You really need to look deeper inside and beyond the surface… — the persistent cloud whispered while she was preparing to get lower to the ground.
This time the wind didn’t just turn his back and say goodbye. This time he decided to go with the cloud though she preferred to be alone. He went down by her side blowing very softly. When he touched the aloes on the dunes he felt something simultaneously fresh and warm going through his body, as if another wind was blowing there. “Was there another wind after all?” he thought to himself without daring to reveal his doubt out loud on that moment. Something was filling with peace and warmness his transparent body and he didn’t know what it was, he could see nothing, except the dunes, the children singing around the lost sailor, the woman bathing in the water and the elegant dance of the seagulls over the smooth waves. The sea was unusually smooth that morning or at least it seemed to him it was. Something was making him to feel things differently though he couldn’t still see more than the usual.
At that point, while he was observing the cloud, he broke the silence to ask her:
— Principessa, what do you really feel when I blow over or through you? Do you feel it’s really me or is just air?
— Well, you have many ways of blowing… I guess what I feel depends on the way you blow. But no, you are not just air, you are a presence as material as those children and the lost sailor. You have a voice, soft hands and huge eyes… — she was saying when he went on with his questions.
— When I’m not here, did you ever feel another wind blowing in your hair or in your chest? When I’m very far away, can you still feel me blowing here?
— You silly restless rider! You know there isn’t another wind… and I feel you blowing even when you are on the other side of the world, even when you are sleeping and just blow in your dreams… But why are you asking me that? Don’t tell me that finally you began to feel what you can’t see… That would be a most wonderful thing! That would mean that finally you are being touched by the magic world around us… A world that you still can’t see, but you will, you will… Now you are beginning… Consider this your first day of creation… Mine began in the moment that little bird arrived here… —she spoke full of hope with shiny eyes.
— By the way, where is the little bird now? I can’t see her… but I think I’m hearing her singing… I think I hear two voices singing the same song… and aren’t the voices of those children. — said the wind stretching his head in every direction until it seemed he had only head and no body.
— I’m so happy that finally you are able to hear her!!! — The persistent cloud exclaimed with overflowing happiness. — This is really a grand day! It’s natural that you hear two voices. Every time, the little bird begins to sing the woman does the same and vice versa, in a perfect synchrony. Even when it is a completely new song, they sing in unisonous as if the song was coming out from a single and unique soul… And perhaps it does, they seem to be different forms of the same soul. They are one, the dream and the dreamer… who is dreaming who I still don’t know. Perhaps they are both dreamers and dreams at the same time… Look at the little bird now… She is tireless and restless… but not like you. She is restless because she always has something more to do… She says her task and mission is endless, so she never stops, not even and she is sleeping and dreaming. Anyway, she rarely sleeps… the most of the times she dreams awake. —she said passing gradually from excitement to a contemplative mood.
— I never dream awake… I don’t know how to do it… — the wind confessed between sad and shy.
— A grand day, indeed! Now you are opening the doors and windows of your soul… let them stay opened and you’ll learn a lot… You’ll begin to dream awake without learning. You don’t need to learn, you just have to feel. Feel, restless rider! Your First Day of Creation is beginning! — The cloud said embracing his huge head with her velvet arms, now orange-pink with happiness.
— Really! — He exclaimed blushing a little bit. — I don’t know exactly what you mean with that but it seems something good to me… But what about the lost sailor? What does he see or feel, after all? He seems indifferent to everything… Did his First Day of Creation start already?
— It will, one day… Each soul has its time, its rhythm, its doors and windows to open. I’m so happy that you are opening yours! Perhaps you’ll blow differently from now on, perhaps when you blow in his face next time, the dark veil in his soul will fall and the light within will shine freely… — the persistent cloud uttered deeply believing in each word…
Tireless winged gardener, drawing by São Ludovino.
Open window, drawing by São Ludovino.
Across the Bridges of Time, drawing by São Ludovino.
To fly is to believe, drawing by São Ludovino.
Winged Thoughts, drawing by São Ludovino.
Inside the seed, drawing by São Ludovino.
Journey with the Sun, drawing by São Ludovino.
Born to dream I, drawing by São Ludovino.
Born to dream II, drawing by São Ludovino.
Rainbow bird, drawing by São Ludovino.
Little blue bird sailing, drawing by São Ludovino.
The Words in the Eyes, drawing by São Ludovino.
Sea rainbow, drawing by São Ludovino.
Moon Tree, drawing by São Ludovino.
Flowing of Seasons Within, drawing by São Ludovino.
The Open Book - Stories told and untold, drawing by São Ludovino.
Primordial energy, drawing by São Ludovino.
