Cherry Blossoms

Love, love

It is spring and the city has been filled with a light purple hue, a gift from the jacaranda. I remember the sweet, pale pink of the cherry blossoms, the afternoons of chocolates and rain in Japanese parks, and your patient smile, which illuminates nature. Your presence is the solar space in which my heart takes refuge gratefully. This we is a placid fire, a cinnamon apple hug, a loving initiation. We invite this etheric bonfire that makes us blush, that rises like a kite to bathe in the winds and act as a flag of hearts that have met, that know each other and communicate in strange languages ​​of silence and poetry.

We have revived to cross the plains as free centaurs, drinking the suns that illuminating excesses allow.
The breasts of virgin maidens and hetairas smile at our joy. Yes, seduction has domesticated the wild dogs, and the gipsies have given us crowns of roses without thorns in the anteroom of the temple without walls or columns, but with copulating clouds and perfumed pink fountains.
Then we share a strawberry vanilla shake, and we return to the kundalini energy, to savour it with cherries.

You say that my eyes compete with the beauty of the flowers that adorn my hair, when are your loving words which give me the water I need to open myself to the universe. I love to play with the idea that we share a sacred fire, a collection of shared images, and a torrent of possibilities to explore. I confess that I cannot rationally explain the miracle that you cause with your mere existence, knowing that you live, hearing your voice, is a balm for wounds that had not been able to heal otherwise. In the labyrinths of my nights of confusion, it is enough to concentrate on your name to remember that there is light in the world and to keep my heart alive. Then I breathe in the eternal bonfire that is revealed in those of us who have faith in the victories of the springs, and gratitude for the caresses that consent the soul. So, just like that, I can still dance a little more for the days on this Earth… thank you, dear.

Iris Aggeler

Thank you. Love, grace and transcendence blessings

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Ra’al Ki Victorieux

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