Looking through the window… can you see there?

Ah! It´s a GARDEN!

Once, a poet wanted to write a poem made of a single word. He was looking for a word that could translate the whole world…we never knew if he could do it. But, I think, poetry is looking for the essential word. Maybe when God made the Universe he thought: GARDEN! (or not)

A garden is the image of beauty, harmony, love, happiness. A writer, friend of mine once said that if he could choose a word to translate the world, Garden would be this word. After a long time waiting, finally, I could have my own garden. I had to wait, because gardens need a land to plant. And I didn´t have it. From my garden, I only had a dream. But one thing I know.I know, that dreams are the places where gardens start to grow, before coming to exist in “real life”.

A garden is a dream that became reality, it’s a part of our soul, being shown to the world with no shame… but the dreams are beautiful things. On their own, they can’t create much…maybe only birds with no wings…like songs that are never played, like seeds in small packs, waiting for someone to put them where they belong.

The dreams lived inside me. They were my own possession. But the land… didn’t exist. But someday, the land came to be… I know, I know it´s virtual, and we can only see from the window of this Dusty Attic, but look friends, what can you see? oh, my dream made love with the land and a garden was born! I didn´t need a gardener. They are excellent, to make real gardens beautiful. In fact, all I wanted was my garden to speak. Oh, you didn´t know gardens can speak?

The poet Guimarães Rosa- Brazilian Poet once said:

“There are many, millions of gardens, and they all talk to each other. The Birds of wind in the sky – always bring messages (…) Even now, there is a big garden, full of girls. Where a little girl, is making fairies… someday you will miss it…then you will know…”

Only those who miss something can understand the messages from the gardens, and we are the only one able to hear the message from our own garden. A garden is like a body. The nature becomes the lover in it…and it´s so good!

All I wanted was the garden from my dreams, that one that only existed because of the things I missed. Then, I was not looking for a real garden; I was looking for the poetic beauty from myself. I wanted to revive the lost happiness; the lost time…

Some time ago a friend said to another “Poor Aline, is nostalgic”. But this person didn’t realize that nostalgia doesn´t mean we stay crying all the time.
To miss is the pain we feel when we realize the distance between the dream and reality. It is realizing that the happiness will only come back when reality can become a dream.

I dream of a garden. We all dream of it. In each body, there is a paradise!

We are nothing but a butterfly. Our world, our destiny, our garden. An utopia.

The Birth of a Butterfly

It´s weird to notice how light comes during the night
How a smile comes with tears.
It´s weird how a storm, can make the land fertile again
How simple steps, can make a dance
everything is change

and…then, amidst all this darkness…

It came slowly, passed by as a breeze
soft, evolving my hectic nights
and night after night, it came back, with agile fingers, and broad smiles
to plant in me, a hope that for a long time had been broken

I looked for memories that were forgotten,
feelings of past lives soaked in tears, but still, I threw my net, and got
that single drop of the sea, that was waiting for me.

I held it carefully, as a diamond… how could a diamond so fragile?
Then, it vibrated, and as a reverse tear, it went up through my face
entered the windows of my soul, and installed itself in my heart.
After a long sigh, the world became a rainbow. The pain was gone.

I could feel that breeze within me, as arms
was it spreading inside me? I can´t be that big…
So, I had to get rid of things I didn´t want anymore.
And In a frenetic whirl of colours and horrors, I tried to create space.

But there was nothing left. So, I entered my own cave.
Organized the mysteries of my soul.
Maybe, that thing that grew within me, could find its purpose.

The breeze became a storm of kisses and smiles
A storm that raised seas of tears
An earthquake of senses and touches
and there, as a metamorphosis, between earth, sea and sky
I could understand the alchemy that was happening inside me

A butterfly was born …
in my back, the most delicate wings … unique, as I had never seen.
And tonight, I´ll fly, high, in search of my spring of inspiration.
It can be anywhere, doesn´t matter its name.
I´ll recognize it when I see for it is mine and it´s is part me.

Now, dear guest and creatures from this Attic…
what can you see in this garden?
What are you missing and Nostalgic about?

Love,
Aline Butterfly Martins

PS: here is a very close friend of mine.
Every morning I cross a park when going to work, and there lives a very special being. My family calls her “grandma”. (It is an elder indeed). I have shared with her my best and worst moments… Yes, It´s a magnificent tree (From Celso Daniel´s Park- Santo André -São Paulo-Brazil)

PPS: I know this Attic is quite Hectic, but
the comment link bellow does not bite! trust me!