Flower Reborn (In Pedrógão)

Stubborn; As only a woman knows how to be.
Knowledgeable; As only a Goddess knows how to be.
Feminine and beautiful among the black of death,
reborn, alive, dependent on strength and not on luck.

Beautiful is your strength that gives color to the Morning.
Sunrise agape renewing Hope.
And the wind packs it, shrouded in gray dust,
that everything around him contemplates her Dance.

It is she, the Flower, who rises on the mountain,
Again, to prove that, who sowed her, was right  ...
To prove that a Goddess looks at us from the front:
without fear, despite the lifes the wind took.

Continues at

http://synchchaos.com/

by Rui M.
Notes:
Pedrógão is a locality in Portugal were 64 people died this June during a wild fire.
this and other poems in a new book "Pieces of Hope" (in English, Portuguese and Spanish)
for more info about the book contact synchchaos@gmail.com

Utopia, at the book fair, was the putrid smell of impossible dreams but also the flowers alone, abandoned on the floor, in their purplish blue, drunk smell of the pollen, that where able to prostrate themselves at my side, in their indecent innocence...

Crazy Summer dreams, trapped in a paper container, like fries with sauces, eaten there by myself, condemned to be, at the very end, only a memory, a warm sky with an unnamed color ... no words to describe. A symbol of a way that words do not allow us to follow. So just a dream, despised by many but not by me during that beloved visit.

[continues]