Heavenly Plane
In the half-light, the road ahead narrows me into a horizon.
Barefoot, I step on sharp cobblestones,
rainwater runs in gutters, grass grows over the sidewalks,
and a horizon lies ahead, without a single light.
Within me grows a need,
a longing so honed it hovers above me
and makes me walk and walk and walk:
I know there is an end to this road,
and I know I want to reach it.
To my left, Giovanni walks, arm in arm with his beloved.
To my right, shadows elbow through,
in tattered clothes, reeking of death, but still walking.
And suddenly, in a breath that rips through time’s fabric,
what was once a shapeless horizon now bursts into infinite forms,
and my eyes are flooded by magnificent trees
radiating the landscape with singular grace.
Far ahead, an arch draws in the thousands of souls who walked with me.
Now I understand we all walk toward a single destiny
there is a gate between the smoky plain and a heavenly plane.
One step through, and the grime of my body vanishes
(the impurities of the soul stored in a bottomless box).
The half-light recoils in shame before this crystal-clear day;
trees spill into a thousand forests, overflowing my gaze;
streams run upward and down; mountains and stairways fill with people.
I climb fifteen steps and there are my aunts, Ana and Tônia,
chatting endlessly.
I see Uncle Alexandre passing by, handing out chocolates
with a hopeful smile, prosperous
like a breath of life in the air.
My mother comes to greet me, that caring mother who said goodbye
not too late,
and now receives me again, warmly,
the way only a mother’s arms can truly do.
All around, thousands of people, millions of hearts.
With every moment, decayed bodies cross the celestial gate,
and are slowly refined
until only their most human essence remains
incorruptible by the vices of the earthly realm.
They go to meet their families, their children;
they go receive chocolate from my uncle;
they go to see smiles
and to be happy.
At the entrance, my Uncle Geraldo comes in too,
hands behind his back, eyes lowered,
the gaze of someone who suffered much in life,
unable to free himself from the chains
which no longer exist here.
Further on, the horizon swells into a field of golden grass.
There in the middle, the sower of sunflowers tends to his delicate forest of asteraceae,
wearing a hat, forever youthful.
There, he transforms the landscape
and he is happy.
Happy as I am too,
happy as I never was.
Until suddenly, a torment rises in my chest.
I remember there is a void inside me,
and I desperately search for my dear brother.
I spin around myself, in despair,
and drown in the agony of the condemned.
I scream, I run, I feel the tears fall,
I cry, howl, strike, fall, die,
I push away the pure souls who block my return
down the dark path I came from,
to fetch him, to find him, to bring him back here,
to finally see him walk, to hear all he never could say,
to see his smile a million more times,
to see his serene face shine like a beacon in my life.
Then the truth finally touches me,
and so the tears stop,
and my despair is overtaken by a feeling of eternal gratitude:
When I look, feel, and pulse within this heavenly plane
I look at my brother.
– Picture: My dear Brother