CENTAUREA"
2024
Island
aura
circle of aurora,
I'm shipwrecked in my sleep
in the placeless place,
still and floating dream circle,
marine garden that emerges between waves and vapors
of golden and celestial mists, tides and stellar rhythms.
Spiritual Kingdom,
Hyperurania of superior waters
which is accessed by a sleep that is vision.
Antiworld Elysium
where gracious maiden, whose gift is Singing, weave spirals
of dew
dancing around the core of the Source.
Sacred Space
where Heroes of epic sagas ride water horses
and dye the sea meadows purple with their faces in the celestial
sphere.
In this place, like a dream,
Golden Bloodlines, full of Grace,
re-emerge from the waters and propitiate rites on iridescent
meadows.
From every drop of light
spring-maidens, air-maidens, shining maiden with white ankles
are born.
From every drop of light
rapid heroes with purple eyes, heroes invested with sacred
power, heroes with the fatal Chant are born.
In this Place, whose name is a hundred times brighter than
Gold,
the reborn courage is sung.
By night, torches float drawing arabesques on long hair
studded with the Gold of the stars.
Gifts, mysteries, initiations,
ecstatic races, voices, secret wedding,
arcane music, rites of passage.
Then, in the white dawn,
the immobile sphere of the island
surrounded by veils of spring water
dissolves
under the regal circle of the Sun.
Only by sleeping you can enter
Only by dreaming you can leave
crossing the portal membrane that surrounds it.
Mystical Journey or Sacred Dream
on a pale sailing ship.
Silence.
I make myself a Votive Offering.
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