Time Melts (In Lousa)

Up here time melts, not from the heat, but from the haze of magic

the trees speak serenely in the ancient whisper that only trees truly know

long ago, these sounds were shared, many of us would have heard the gentle deafening murmur of the peeling barks, these mesmeric sounds were sung as commonly as the beating of our own hearts


But the rotations of existence that bathe down there, in the plains, the towns and the cities below that we see from the peaks and passes on our mountain splendour, have consumed and lost almost all we knew, amongst the desires and greed


The wind dances and softly plays my favourite song, well, favourite almost were it not for the birds and rivers and the beating drum

The yellows of the afternoon sun tease my eyes with flickering disobedience and somewhere lurking, a gift from the clouds, a cold spring breeze fights for my senses


Love resides here, I know only this. I could search all day, all night, all year if I had to for further truths, but everything I would learn, I am certain, would lead me back to this wisdom – that love resides in the mountain air. My heart sings in its presence, praises each and every breath under its gaze, rejoices at the harmony that exhales from its movements


Each step upon this mountain path as I rise between the ridges, through the oak and pine and eucalyptus feels more than a gift, higher than a blessing, greater than magic – it feeds me, nurtures my spirit, enlivens my soul, captures my longing and speaks to me of salvation


It frees me


No longer do I quest, no longer do I want or need or have or be, no longer do I question, I see only brothers and sisters in the blossoming flowers and fauna, mothers and fathers in the exquisite and imposing trees, ancestors and teachers in the immovable and radiant rocks, great Gods and wise ascetics within the floating clouds – each element guides me through the days, tells me stories of wondrous celebration and challenges of raw, gut wrenching perseverance that bounds me free from all that is not


I can only recline in awe at the marvels of existence up here, up here amongst the creatures of pure fantasy, I lay in unrivalled disbelief at the very nature and breathless beauty of all the illusions that sing for my attention, or more accurately, that sit, in a roaring silence, in a millennia of meditation, they patiently wait incarnate as visions of miraculous wonder to whisper nothing but love to any and all that stop in stillness, for even just a moment, within their presence


Whispered, you’ll hear


Thank you

Thank you for your moment of patience


Serra da Lousã, Portugal // 04”05”17

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