The World Shape : outubro 2018

A chuva que a noite trouxe limpou as almas que vagueavam em busca de uma lua que não se via.

Pode não parecer, mas caminhar à chuva numa noite sem lua faz-nos lembrar que somos seres mágicos, que outrora éramos unos com as estrelas e os deuses antigos.

Com o passar dos milhares de anos esquecemo-nos de quem somos, de onde viemos, e tornámo-nos seres vazios da essência mágica que nos dá vida e nos acompanha até ao mundo dos nossos antepassados.

É isto que queremos?

Vaguear por ruas e caminhos, com medo do escuro, sempre à procura de uma luz artificialmente criada pelo Homem? Na verdade, não andamos com lanternas mas andamos com telemóveis que têm essa funcionalidade e, ao mínimo sinal de ausência de luz, recorremos a um foco criado por nós. Simplesmente porque deixámos de nos sentir um só ser juntamente com a Natureza, seja ela qual for a que nos rodeia.

E, por isso, estamos a ficar vazios. Da nossa magia. Daquilo que nos define.

A chuva não acalmou mas os primeiros ténues raios de sol começaram a surgir e a sensação de que o dia estava a começar e já se podia respirar de alívio espalhava-se por todo o lado.

A chuva era a mesma. Durante umas horas sob um céu ausente de lua visível, agora sob um sol cinzento.

Mudámos porque nos esquecemos dos nossos antepassados.

P.C. Franco

free use under the Creative Commons CC0

Naquele dia em que o sol se despedia, ela conseguia ver os monstros numa dança frenética, celebrando o nascer da escuridão.

No caminho de regresso a casa, sentia em cada folha caída no chão que o mundo estava prestes a mudar.

Fechou os olhos e percorreu o caminho o mais rapidamente que conseguiu. De repente, os sons e os cheiros encheram-lhe a mente, afastando as imagens que fora acumulando ao longo do dia.

Era assim há já vários anos, a fronteira entre a luz e a escuridão fazia parte dos seus dias.

Nem se lembrava de quando ainda não conhecia os demónios. Deve ter havido uma altura de esperança de alguma normalidade na vida que se lhe avizinhava, deve ter havido. Mas não tinha memória de tempos assim.

A mente cresce connosco ou sempre lá esteve e apenas tomamos noção da mesma com o passar dos anos?

Estamos condenados à luz ou à escuridão ou haverá algum momento em que tudo é uma incógnita?

Seja qual for a resposta, os seus passos eram firmes, destemidos, mas rápidos. Apesar de os conhecer desde sempre, os monstros não eram de serem levados de animo leve.

A única ajuda era não se perder na sua mente e deixar-se guiar pelos pequenos aluxes que ia encontrando e que lhe iam sorrindo, como que a indicarem o caminho de regresso a casa.

Havia noites em que a casa parecia-lhe muito longe e outras em que tinha dúvidas se tinha chegado a ela ou se tinha, na realidade, ficado a vaguear noite fora, à procura do regresso.

A certeza de que estamos seguros acontece uma vez em cada mil anos.

P.C. Franco

***

texts at dawn #2

On that day when the sun parted, she could see the monsters in a frenzied dance, celebrating the rising of the darkness.

On the way home, she felt on every leaf lying on the ground that the world was about to change.

She closed her eyes and made her way as fast as she could. Suddenly, the sounds and smells filled her mind, pushing away the images he had accumulated throughout the day.

It was so for several years now, the border between light and darkness was part of his days.

She could not even remember when she had not met the demons yet. There must have been a moment of hope for some normality in the life that was approaching her, there must have been. But she had no memory of times like this.

Does the mind grow with us or have we always been there and only have we grasped it over the years?

Are we doomed to light or darkness or is there ever a time when everything is a mystery?

Whatever the answer, her steps were steady, fearless, but quick. Although she had known them forever, the monsters were not to be taken lightly.

The only help was not to get lost in her mind and to let herself be guided by the small aluxes that she was finding and smiling at her as if to indicate the way home.

There were nights when the house seemed very far away, and others she had doubts about if she had even come home, or whether she had actually been wandering all night long in search of return.

The certainty that we are safe happens once in a thousand years.

P.C. Franco




On the way home, I felt on every leaf lying on the ground
that the world was about to change.

She closed her eyes and made her way as fast as she could.
Suddenly, the sounds and smells filled his mind, pushing away the images he had
accumulated throughout the day.

It was so for several years now, the border between light
and darkness was part of his days.




He could not even remember when he had not met the demons
yet. There must have been a moment of hope for some normality in the life that
was approaching him, there must have been. But I had no memory of times like
this.

Does the mind grow with us or have we always been there and
only have we grasped it over the years?

Are we doomed to light or darkness or is there ever a time
when everything is a mystery?

Whatever the answer, his steps were steady, fearless, but
quick. Although they had known them forever, the monsters were not to be taken
lightly.

The only help was not to get lost in her mind and to let
herself be guided by the small lines that she was finding and smiling at her as
if to indicate the way home.

There were nights when the house seemed very far away, and
others she had doubts about if she had come to her, or whether she had actually
been wandering the night away in search of return.

The certainty that we are safe happens once in a thousand
years.