Cuentos para Kati XI

We cheer upon your arrival and of that who opens the door for you, for your mother, the sacred vessel carrying you for 22 moons, feeding you with love and illusions. We cheer upon your arrival, upon the first time you open your eyes, surrounding the door with our protection, trumpeting at your triumph, at her triumph, at the end and the beginning.

The young mother questioned father's motives, his inspiration, his reasons to act in such a way, his reasons to force himself on her. The young mother questioned the lack of love, the violence and the fear of seeing father's face on that she might feel obliged to love, trapped in confusion, between resentment and love, force to protect the eternity of such an act, force the love of your life were to become as his father.

The young mother questioned the beauty of the one growing inside her, the health and the creature's future, in a world consumed in sadness, in a world possessed by violence, in a world where ivory taken with hate, leads to beautiful music, corrupted by its origins, by transcending humanity's ears from its violent oblivion. The young mother questioned the creature's future in a world poaching for tusks, in a world empty at compassion, in a world choking at omission, in a world excited at fashion.

The young mother questioned her passing beauty, her expiring charm, wondering, gambling the feeling of desire coming from mates against a life of commitment, gambling her dreams in favor of those of an unborn creature. The young mother questioned herself, her capacity of giving blind love, uncompromising love, free love to a little dot, arguably alive, ready to shake her entire foundations. 

The young mothers feared, the young mothers questioned, the young mothers asked, asked the old mother, why bringing another creature to this world, to this world, as it is, as it seems to be, as it will probably keep being, violent and sad and at the price of losing everything?

The old mother answered, because of love, because love demands everything but asks for nothing, because love has won already, because love is quiet, because love is silence, because love is all and because life is love, there is no logic on it, there is no reason on it, there is nothing on it, nothing that can be thought, nothing that can be calculated, nothing that can be presumed, nothing that can be explained, love is love, love is the decision of love. 

We cheer upon your arrival and of that who opens the door for you, we cheer at the face of violence, we cheer at the fear of discomfort we cheer at the fear of losing all that you blindly believe you are, we cheer because life, because life as it is, as it has been, as it will be, whatever it is, whatever it was, whatever it will be, whatever, life comes only from love. 

Cuentos para Kati X

The little bird found himself caught in the mirror, attempting to see his whole face, but his eyes are not made to look ahead, his eyes are not made to see straight, his eyes are not made to give themselves a name, his eyes are made to have faith.

As the flock drank water and searched for provisions, the little bird kept trying to see his face, though he could only see half of it, but with plenty of time, you can end up believing you are one, with plenty of time, you can end up believing you are alone. With plenty of time, you can end up believing you are two, the left and the right, the bad and the good one.

He did not hear the call, the dots aiming at joining, the whistling wind and the choreography starting. Absorbed and aching to define himself, he thought of going deep into the water, hoping to have mirrors at every possible angle and at the same time, but his eyes are not made to see straight, his eyes are made to have faith.

Confused, desperate and without air, he remembered all those days, flying, feeling the wind, looking only at those by his side, following and leading the dance, without himself, without a name, just flowing with faith. He remembered the gentle touch of wings and the sweet warmness of feeling part of something greater than himself, greater than any of them.

As the black became deeper, the mirrors melted in the peaceful waves, same as in the air, when he became one with his friends, with his mates, with the wind and the air. When his friend pulled him from the water, the tears in his eyes, reminded him all those days, when he had faith in those around, when he didn't worry about himself, when he didn't need to define himself. 

By the shore of the lake, the little bird saw the flock waiting for him, waiting for one of them and realized that his eyes were not made to see straight, but to have faith in those around. Every dot might need to define itself, maybe many times, but the flock is always there to remind us that we are one, even if we seem as many.