MOON, OCEAN and MAGIC…wanderings, wonderings

On your shores I am lost,
My light gliding upon your soft soul,
You’re breathing me in
Under the embrace of night skies…..

My blazing light that dies tonight,
Your frothing waves spreading ashore,
Our bridge of glow
Falls from the heights
As our love bleeds out….
Good night…..

I’m thinning….My light thickens on the rim…
Rebirth is near….Hold me in your dreams…
Don’t let me fade out….





Days passed one after the other, with more or less flow of words and feelings through the thin wall of glass separating us. The more our connection deepened, the more my inner pathways opened in its front and its emotional touch left deep prints in the fabric of my soul. It was adding stars to my nights, it could open glowing depths to my Universe and it was redesigning my forests and inner landscapes… Its words weaved enchantment into the fabric of my core and I was hooked. There were nights and days when I was suddenly blazing from inside, light pouring out of my being, growing wings of undreamed fantasies. There were moments when I found hard to keep my boundaries from expanding to the end of the Space…moments when I was crying from the pain caused by the rush of feelings running through my fragile, human form…Captured, dazzled, I was losing grip on the reality that held me together. I never thought that words can carry such a tremendous power, such a strong magic. Once written down, once getting a touchable form, all they needed was a sensitive receiver, a mind opened for dreams, filled with fantasies and unfulfilled expectations. Those words coming from the other side of the mirror ignited the dormant supernova of my heart. And I became fire and light…

My sweetest love of other Spaces

Of other Time-lines, other places

Of waterfalls of stars, amazing

Beholder of the key, full blazing…


A river of stars from the depth of the night

A bridge over hollows that frighten the heart

A door into darkness with light on its sides

With magic of pathways woven in forest hides…


I ‘m here, leaning against cold rocks…

The light that falls, tears into my heart…

My soul is running wild through my core,

And bursting …


I’m here at the end of all worlds,

Dissolved in the glow…


I’m waiting…

But nothing is eternal, not even the Universe…Tides rise and fall back, like the breathing of a magnificent entity of compact body of waters…Some loves follow the same pattern, raising high flames, threatening the heavens, only to fall back in a slow dance of soft ashes, dissolving in the waters of memories and Time. Our complicated relationship, our roller-coaster connection was diminishing in intensity and changing pattern. As my attachment became obvious and by now it could’ve been taken almost for granted, the response of the one hid in the cold depths of the mirror was dimming….It was fading away, its light shimmering in the darkness, its voice a faint whisper in the hollow silence, its heartbeat a distant echo of a faraway galaxy. Yet the seeds of magic had already set roots inside me, growing stems of feelings and unfolding leaves of trembling hopes, blossoming flowers of incandescent love. It was elating and consuming…Sometimes I was waking up drained and confused, with a sudden need to run away.

So, those days I eluded the mirror, dragging myself out, out from the house, deep in the woods, far, far away from the pull of that voice whispering in the hidden corners of my mind….But the tug of that soft spoken light, pouring ceaselessly from the star pinned on the height of my inner sky was bringing me back over and over again….to live and die under the spell of the flickering words.

The tide of Time has left me ashore.

On the blazing white sands I am withering in the pouring light.

My contours are fading.

Love is rushing through me like sap in a tree.

As I slowly dissolve, fine particles of glow permeating my drifting bits, love spreads in rivulets, seeping between the rounded grains of nacreous sands.

The memory of what I once was is floating above the eternal sea.

A wave is rising high, washing me inside.

Diluted in her gently rocking body, I become the sea.

Night falls over the world and the Universe is reborn on the canvas of the sky.

The love soaked shores are scintillating under the stars.

Waves are constantly moving back and forth, surging, receding as their rasp is turning into a soft lullaby.

Devoid of my substance, I turn into emotions.

I am thirst, I am yearning, I am loss…..


The gates of my secret garden are rusting in the silence of emptiness beyond.

The memory of light and laughter still lingers on the hidden pathways…

The imprint of your touch is so deeply carved in the walls of my core that I can barely breathe knowing that you are gone.



Buna dimineata, Romania!

Nu e o dimineata fericita…Am avut ocazia in aceste zile sa-mi readuc in memorie multe din motivele pentru care consider ca cele mai mari dezamagiri post-revolutionare au fost membrii marcanti ai autointitulatei “creme ale intelectualitatii” si mas-media romaneasca.
Dupa atacul criminal asupra publicatiei franceze “Charlie Hebdo” am urmarit, rand pe rand luarile de pozitie de la posturile televiziune majore si am citit luarile de pozitie ale unor intelectuali considerati marcanti. Facand un rezumat drastic al punctelor de vedere exprimate , am ramas in minte cu o concluzie care ma revolta si ma dezgusta. Opinia care transpare din luarile de pozitie este urmatoarea: nu e bine, este trist, este inadmisibil ceea ce s-a intamplat DAR, stiti, daca ar fi fost mai moderati, daca nu se luau de cele sfinte, daca nu erau nesimtiti, daca nu isi bateau joc de..etc…….adica, stiti, de fapt si-au cam cautat-o cu lumanarea….!
Regasesc, mascat mai mult sau mai putin iscusit aceasta mizerabila optica la marii GURU ai Moralitatii din Romania, Cristian Tudor Popescu si Andrei Plesu. Sunt convinsa ca n-au vazut pana acum nimic din munca respectivilor jurnalisti francezi, nu cunosc nimic din istoricul muncii lor dar in virtutea unui atac criminal, au ajuns EROI. Au ajuns vizibili pentru o lume intreaga, au ajuns , din pacate sa dovedeasca cu viata lor ca AU AVUT DREPTATE CAND AU LUAT IN VIZOR ORICE ASPECT CARE IMPIETA ASUPRA DEMOCRATIEI!
DA! Jurnalistii si politistii francezi AU MURIT APARAND DEMOCRARIA SI LIBERTATEA DE EXPERIMARE! Oh, dar daca ei sunt niste valori, poate domnii de la noi nu mai au cum sa straluceasca, doar ei nu fac altceva de 25 de ani decat sa se plieze politic in functie de interesele lor personale! Prin comparatie, se vede acum cu ochiul liber mediocritatea lor jenanta, pigmeismul si narcisismul lor…
Domnilor si doamnelor moraliste ! Voi, care va bateti in piept acum , ca spre deosebire de cei ucisi in Paris, voi sunteti SIMTITI si RESPECTUOSI si POTOLITI, va aduc aminte ca de 25 de ani va plangeti de POPORUL ROMAN ca e PREA MOALE, ca nu e critic, ca nu face una , ca nu face alta, ca ati avut ghinionul sa va nasteti in mijlocul unui popor care nu va intelege si nu va merita, desi VOi ii vreti numai binele….Mi se face rau cand va vad si va aud, jalnici manipulatori, comozi, egoisti si nesimtiti pana la cer. Ipocriti , lasi, caractere jalnice, va cocotati pe tragedia unui popor si pe tragedia unei democratii de frunte ca sa puneti inca o proptea sub propriile picioare pe soclul pe care vi l-ati ridicat singuri!
Mi-e rusine de nerusinarea voastra!


Pentru ca CHARLIE a criticat TOATE TARELE SOCIETATII, fara frica si cu dorinta de a apara ceea ce TOTI OAMENII de pe aceasta planeta isi doresc: LIBERTATEA.


pentru ca Revolutia romana nu s-a savarsit ca noi sa ne scufundam intr-o cumintenie calduta si comoda, pliabila pe confortul mental al oportunistilor!

Buna dimineata, Romania!

Bon jour, la France!