saudade

by walterdoege

language…idioms…words and phrases…anyone feels saudade…that words does exist only in portuguese idiom…but that word signifies some sentiment all peoples feel…since the civilization start it’s endeavor…saudade is some kind of missing, so close to losts…griefs…mourning… sadness…sudade is some reverie of days gone by…civilization begings with written words…writing at stones…writing at skins…writing at rocks…and the words does not exist only in my head…we share the words as we share the air…perhaps civilization begin it’s task with the first book…what is a book?, if not a recordable mark of human expression…a book is not a collection of phrases, but the human effort to build the world, and communicate…feelings, sentiments, emotions, facts, descriptions…to build a house, and a home…that first house is the world…be a lot of caverns…be the nowadays cities…after food and shelter, the communication…creating a common house…for survival, and living…and for have food and shelter, communication is some other tool…the words communicate bad and good news…the words are bricks of the world as a sketch of realities…I was watching a colorful mobile near me…at my house…it’s movement according to winds waves is captivaing…another mobile is a windchimes…and the sounds i listen from the windchimes is a mellow song of the wind…love is blowing in the winds…love is in the air…one love…one language…various idioms…the sentiment of missing…the sentiment of recovery…from time that gone by…communication…language…saudade…some recovery of mutual losses and experience to be acknowledged or remembered with dignity, honor, respect…to regroup…and keep forward…another day to come…another year to live…despite past water move actual mills…letting go of the past…receiving the futures…as a waving motion…a sliding motion…from past to futures, the only bridge is the present time…the now is close to eternity…intangible…some stillness, to go on…it’s always time to share love and joy…it’s always time to sense time…it’s always time to sense the art…out of time and space…out of vocabulary…something with words and beyond words, but an ever listened beat…my heart beating…like a drumm..down beating…up beating…your heart beating…our beating compass of the loving road…roll, loving road…roll, saudade, roll…the my heart endless beating…sounding loudly…as a word…a written words…even without my heart…some years behind…roll, saudade, roll…out of time…out of space…language…an affectionated gesture…my hand…your hand…hold my hands…hold my whole life too…I’ll never stop…beating my heart…saudade…an universal sentiment in such a single word…the soul inhabits the word…singing and endless lullaby