Streams of Being #7
July 2026
Streams of Warmth
Spring is soon to leave us, but not its warmth. It will intensify by summer, and I hope my body will still be able to remember what it was like when the sun wasn’t scorching my skin. When the flowers were alive and soft, drinking their water through the dirt. I suppose you should never have too much of everything. But it’s so enticing to forego moderation. To lose it all in the force of such delicious earthly pleasures.
To get drunk on fruit and the rich scent of petals. To let yourself become a bronze statue under the golden rays of our brightest star. To become a temporary home for the insects rolling around in the mud with you. To swim in a vast ocean, believing it would never dare to swallow you whole. To lie so still in the grass, until the birds trust that you have become a plant, too.
There isn’t a better comfort than to become one with the Earth you live on. No greater warmth for the heart, no stronger river of joy. So, go on. Continue distracting yourself with ugly buildings and lifeless walls, fancy cars you rarely drive, your numbing phone, how you appear to people you don’t even like, or how many people you can date but never fully connect with, then dare to complain when your soul feels cold.
Earthly Pleasures
I don't know what it's like to live in the sky But I've heard it is cold and there is no breath of life The exact breath that fills my nostrils with being And turns me into a creature of calm and happiness That can look at the world around herself And experience every marvel I cannot find above I much prefer to indulge in these earthly pleasures Filled with ripe fruit and fresh water Delicious coffee and chocolate The cheeks of my friends and the arms of my lover A family on whose shoulders to cry on And the different and intriguing species we live alongside of I would not forsake, not even for a second, The taste, the touch, the sight, the smell, the sound, Of these wonderful gifts I can so ephemerally enjoy And I would also not forsake, not even for a minute, The warmth they bring to my soul Nor the warmth they bring to us all
The Water
My, my, how the water flows Sweetly and softly Through my body On it's way To cleanse my soul And it wipes it clean With its freshness And I am born anew Each times she embraces me And protects me from the celestial heat And, yet, she still warms me Tenderly, like a lover or a loved-one, Reminding me that Wherever she is I will always find a home
Yellow Orbit
As quickly as the hummingbird flies So does my heart Toward the yellow orbit in the sky It kisses my skin golden My hair lighter And my soul brighter It accompanies me among the grass Inside the river Between the flowers It keeps me warm on the cheekier months And I know for sure I'd be nothing without its rays
Soft Flower
I am alive And I am soft I am a bed And I am a home I feed and I protect The insects that drink from my nectar I decorate the fields Of Mother Earth's greatest paintings And all I have to do is just exist And fully enjoy The water I drink from the soil And the warmth that reaches me from the sun
Child of Touch
My fingers dig through the peel of the orange And its juice soaks the skin underneath my nails It's still warm from its time on the market stand And its acid burns the papercuts on my hands There's something delicious about destroying a fruit to eat it I still can't tell if I prefer savoring that or the actual taste As a child, I touched everything I could instead of speaking My hands have always reached where my words wouldn't dare Maybe that's why I'm caressing your face with sticky hands Instead of telling you that I love you or asking you if you're hungry There's something delicious about watching you come undone from my touch I still can't decide if I prefer that or the tenderness of your love
Little Bird
A little bird is bathing on a quaint fountain It's too hot for its tiny body Which can only handle the softness of warmth He is brown and adorable Careful and curious Yet unaware of my presence Sometimes I feel like I too am a little bird All I need is some fresh water to bathe in A strong tree to nestle in And a strong current of wind to carry me For I do not have the strength nor the skill To fly to where I want to reach
The Patch of Grass
I’ve been lying in this small patch of grass for a few days now. I have met every bug and every mammal that lives below and between it, and I have scared most of them too. This grass is so soft and so fresh, it pets my skin kindly and invitingly. As if I, too, could become one of its creatures, one of its contributors, one of its children.
I get up, sometimes, to stretch my legs, pick wild berries from a nearby bush, or drink water from the closest pond. But I always return to my small patch of grass. And each time I do, I am saddened by how sick I leave it.
You see, on my small patch of grass, shine the softest, lightest, and warmest rays of the sun. But my body steals that light for itself, and my weight crushes and flattens the little grass. Still, the grass welcomes me back every time. It still loves me despite all the grief I cause it. I don’t want to destroy it anymore. What fool would destroy the place they call home? So, I will jump between little patches of grass, without hurting them too much, and each time I can, I will return to the one I call home.
Light on the Ripples
Every summer, I aim to collect each sunrise and sunset. I take their image and burn it deep into my memory. I could do it, and sometimes do, at other times of the year, but it’s different in summer. The sky turns into a blunt blend of pink and orange, painting the ground below it with the same colors.
It is especially beautiful to catch it on the local lake. It’s a few kilometers from my house, but I always try to overcome that distance whenever I can. All to see the light and the colors reflected on the ripples in the lake. I don’t even mind the mosquitoes or the colder breezes. My heart is still warm.
On the hotter days, I even venture to take a swim. On the days I have more time, I lie on the grass for hours. But I never, ever, engrave those moments anywhere else. No paintings, no drawings, no photos, no videos. Those sunrises and sunsets are mine and mine alone. And I will cherish them until I can no longer remember what they looked like, and even more after that. I am here now, the ripples are shining, and I will take as much of life in as I possibly can.
The Beauty is Gone
There was a time in human history when beautiful things were carefully produced. When people would engrave their souls and their consideration for others into their everyday items, with their own hands. Sure, many also engraved their cruelty and their disdain, but at least they did it beautifully. That is not how it is today.
I have been living in this recent city for five years, and I swear, each year that goes by, it just gets uglier and uglier, and much harder to live in. The buildings are made of colorless walls, and their architecture is too straightforward and boring. You could walk for miles and think you were still in the same place. The roads are impossible to drive on, and there are hardly any spaces to go by foot or bike, and they’re becoming increasingly dangerous for pedestrians. How are we supposed to move where public transportation doesn’t reach?
Public spaces are no longer as accessible as they want you to believe, designed to keep certain people out, and day by day, whatever nature was left gets sucked out of them. I lost count of how many days I can go without seeing a single tree. Everything is made of plastic and disposable. There is nothing to hold onto, to keep for the sake of the soul. This city is too hot, but I still feel cold.
I don’t know anyone besides my coworkers, and nobody greets each other on the streets. I see so many brand-new cars and five-star hotels, but no one feeding the people on the sidewalks. Hell, not even I am doing that — always counting my pennies for things I probably don’t need. And I know people have always been evil and greedy creatures, but this is getting too much. So, I’m saving money to leave. I want to run away and find some place where I can feel alive again. Somewhere my heart can feel warm.
Here is the PFD with the texts and the designs I made with so much love, totally for free. I hope you enjoy it <3!
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São todos umas preciosidades. O último texto é um golpe, e faz pensar como só poderemos (um dia, receio) estar ligados à natureza com textos como estes.