I was born out of the mounds of the mountains.
I made myself looking at their time,
surrounded by them and in them.
Earths, saws, stones, dust-portals.
The hot blur and dust
announce: here the sky is the ground itself.
«Heaven land north south»
«Heaven land north south»
«Heaven land north south»,
sang Kulumim-Açu.
sierra of Meru, sierra of Jordan.
City that trembles,
Little stones,
Acaraú.
Sierra of Pajé.
Pits on dirt road,
Dust,
Intãs.
Do we recognize the sensitivity of the stones?
Cátia de França already pre’ announced
in her strong and low step
Beware of the sayings:
prepare eyes and throat,
the agony will be such
that you can't even imagine.
I crawled under the fences with my eyes full of dirt,
eyes transfigured in breathing pores /
/ earth, sand, stones and dust are manifested.
My torn-up eyes infested
the nails of my hands,
blurring and disorienting my vision.
We need to rehearse a firm step,
a flying kick, they say.
That is: earth for the foot, firmness.
One foot on the ground the other there.
Sassy, light and smudgy.
Contrary to what they have us believe,
Looking at the mountains can be like looking at the sea,
the limit and the infinite extended,
stretched out under the hot sun
coexisting
The cosmos, the sea, the sertão*
And to see the sea that exists here (nearby)
Up the mountain
Down the mountain **
How long have they been there?
Descriptors of deep and millennial time,
non-human time, more-than-human time.
Changing while no one looks,
Its infinity is in the eyes of water
in the continuity were rivers and streams are born from,
in its materiality felt immaterially,
in its visageous and invisible impermanence
its stubborn existence
announces the good weather.
Overlapping steps
of the dust layers that either
reveal either hide
his / my movements.
Knowing how to crawl low, light and sassy is
also about: stepping firmly and gently
over the earth in hers/our/thousand times.
By your feet,
the ridimuim trail
disturbs the catch,
troubles orientation.
Escapes.
It has no location.
It’s ex-vision, ex-otic,
blessing of the ex-voto that
we leave in Canindé.
Surrounded by pitch dark and its spirits,
I dreamt like the apparition that preluded
and crossed the ends.
Deep dive
in the rio-cacimbá.
–
* Outback, dry region of Northeast Brazil
** Fartura (2020) by Kulumin-Açu.