There once was a bird.
By Ana Margarida Henriques
This was not any one bird.
I lived up there, above the clouds, higher than any living being could reach.
Their home made ice.
The bird was so hot, so hot that the snow was the only place I could be without com bust.
The legend says that the phoenix was burned a few hundred years in hundreds of years and rose from its ashes, as the original: resplendent and without memory.
But the bird did not know it, there was no time for her, did not know what was memory: it simply Era
She did not even know existed, had never seen any other being.
Their white feathers blended into the whiteness of the snow, playing with the drops of color of clouds and thin rays of the sun and stars crossed over your body.
She just thought it was an integral part of this magnificent spectacle of ethereal light.
There were rare occasions when the little star gazing into his eyes in deep reflection in the snow and, for a moment, remembering the night.
On full moon nights she felt light strands pull her into the air and flew down out of space in that light.
Turning formless and weightless, free, hear the music of the stars in pure ecstasy and let out a piercing shriek.
From the other side of the moon howling wolf.
This was just a wolf.
Born from the pack, had a hard life trying to survive, always learning the price of life in his body.
But do not think of these facts I mean any wolf.
What made this particular wolf was love that brought the chest, so great that led him to overcome his own pain.
So loved the moon that always wanted to see it closer.
Especially on the full moon.
It was at this point that wolves are separated from the pack and sought solitude.
In this solitude, the company under the moon confessed their pain: the harshness of life, the difficulty of managing the wills in the pack and his tremendous apprehension by dearest, your heaven and your hell.
Faced with such pressure that was on his chest and that accumulated at these times, the magnetism of the moon intensified these feelings so that the poor wolves fled to confront the nakedness of the moon and scream.
The older wolf was greater intensity of emotions that prespassavam your flesh like knives and tore his chest an infinite scream that echoed in the face of the moon.
Once emptied, cleaned of all emotions, returned to their loved ones in a halo of joy.
All wolves liked the full moon, especially this.
He had lost everything: pack, wolf, little ones.
What kept him alive was the moon, why he loved her so much he wanted to see her ever closer.
I wanted to tell him how much he loved her, howling their pain, open your heart and then zealously guard its rays of hope and joy that used parsimoniously over time until the reunion.
When he was about to reach the moon wolf skirt ago.
They spent many months on their feet until the wolf might realize that walking away was not a solution: it was not closer and the moon was not greater.
Then I decided to climb the mountains.
Rose growing, and, though he could not see the moon covered by clouds felt their magnetism at heart.
Your tired body was whipped by the cold mountain air but his heart was always getting warmer.
It was like a magma of violent emotion twisting and turning knocking thin walls of his chest to erupt.
He knew that his body was becoming too fragile to contain this growing avalanche as he climbed the mountain and that could kill.
It was the most excitement for the carcass of a simple wolf.
But still followed, between gasping between each step a ton of snow and buried in a rhythm of your heart crazy.
At each step blinded by fog, in an act of pure faith among the escarpment managed to reach the peak to look at the moon exactly one minute and thirty seven seconds before dropping his last howl.
Packaged in Wolf Howl wires touched the light bristling wolf, one after another until his coat stay fully illuminated by the moonlight.
In that brief moment, that it was a simple wolf was the happiest creature on earth.
In the spheres of his black eyes glinting light from the stars shone like diamonds.
This light charmed the bird, who had never seen another pair of eyes but his own, and was abandoned in flight in this light thinking they were the eyes of the moon.
It was the prolonged howl that echoed the cry of the bird that made from mirror, opening a chasm between the icy slopes.
The bird as a meteorite that crosses the space precipitated in combustion and bursts in the air.
At the last moment these animals, printed in wolf's eyes light most ever seen on earth.
And never the phoenix reborn.
By Ana Margarida Henriques
This was not any one bird.
I lived up there, above the clouds, higher than any living being could reach.
Their home made ice.
The bird was so hot, so hot that the snow was the only place I could be without com bust.
The legend says that the phoenix was burned a few hundred years in hundreds of years and rose from its ashes, as the original: resplendent and without memory.
But the bird did not know it, there was no time for her, did not know what was memory: it simply Era
She did not even know existed, had never seen any other being.
Their white feathers blended into the whiteness of the snow, playing with the drops of color of clouds and thin rays of the sun and stars crossed over your body.
She just thought it was an integral part of this magnificent spectacle of ethereal light.
There were rare occasions when the little star gazing into his eyes in deep reflection in the snow and, for a moment, remembering the night.
On full moon nights she felt light strands pull her into the air and flew down out of space in that light.
Turning formless and weightless, free, hear the music of the stars in pure ecstasy and let out a piercing shriek.
From the other side of the moon howling wolf.
This was just a wolf.
Born from the pack, had a hard life trying to survive, always learning the price of life in his body.
But do not think of these facts I mean any wolf.
What made this particular wolf was love that brought the chest, so great that led him to overcome his own pain.
So loved the moon that always wanted to see it closer.
Especially on the full moon.
It was at this point that wolves are separated from the pack and sought solitude.
In this solitude, the company under the moon confessed their pain: the harshness of life, the difficulty of managing the wills in the pack and his tremendous apprehension by dearest, your heaven and your hell.
Faced with such pressure that was on his chest and that accumulated at these times, the magnetism of the moon intensified these feelings so that the poor wolves fled to confront the nakedness of the moon and scream.
The older wolf was greater intensity of emotions that prespassavam your flesh like knives and tore his chest an infinite scream that echoed in the face of the moon.
Once emptied, cleaned of all emotions, returned to their loved ones in a halo of joy.
All wolves liked the full moon, especially this.
He had lost everything: pack, wolf, little ones.
What kept him alive was the moon, why he loved her so much he wanted to see her ever closer.
I wanted to tell him how much he loved her, howling their pain, open your heart and then zealously guard its rays of hope and joy that used parsimoniously over time until the reunion.
When he was about to reach the moon wolf skirt ago.
They spent many months on their feet until the wolf might realize that walking away was not a solution: it was not closer and the moon was not greater.
Then I decided to climb the mountains.
Rose growing, and, though he could not see the moon covered by clouds felt their magnetism at heart.
Your tired body was whipped by the cold mountain air but his heart was always getting warmer.
It was like a magma of violent emotion twisting and turning knocking thin walls of his chest to erupt.
He knew that his body was becoming too fragile to contain this growing avalanche as he climbed the mountain and that could kill.
It was the most excitement for the carcass of a simple wolf.
But still followed, between gasping between each step a ton of snow and buried in a rhythm of your heart crazy.
At each step blinded by fog, in an act of pure faith among the escarpment managed to reach the peak to look at the moon exactly one minute and thirty seven seconds before dropping his last howl.
Packaged in Wolf Howl wires touched the light bristling wolf, one after another until his coat stay fully illuminated by the moonlight.
In that brief moment, that it was a simple wolf was the happiest creature on earth.
In the spheres of his black eyes glinting light from the stars shone like diamonds.
This light charmed the bird, who had never seen another pair of eyes but his own, and was abandoned in flight in this light thinking they were the eyes of the moon.
It was the prolonged howl that echoed the cry of the bird that made from mirror, opening a chasm between the icy slopes.
The bird as a meteorite that crosses the space precipitated in combustion and bursts in the air.
At the last moment these animals, printed in wolf's eyes light most ever seen on earth.
And never the phoenix reborn.
![Photo: Choosing/recognising friends (especially humans) in initial stage of acquaintance is impossible.
However, after sometimes it becomes clear whether he/she is fit to be a friend or not, but this happening of recognition is a mysterious subtle phenomenon.
Company of good (having open mind....having beautiful aura) friends is more contagious than company of bad (having closed mind....having dark aura) one.
[ This is the practical day to day factual reality and has nothing to do with spirituality/advaita/etc. concepts. ]
[ Friends include humans, animals, trees, goods,...anything ---- its a question of matching of vibration ]
[ Change in the level of energy after coming in contact with a friend is one of the best indicators in this direction ]](https://fbcdn-sphotos-h-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-prn1/c0.0.240.240/p403x403/69541_382544808491537_622784772_n.jpg)
