Miris svežeg voća / The Smell of Fresh Fruit

— Please scroll down for an English version

Pronašao sam je na spoju dve boje. Jednom kada sam naučio da dodirujem nove nijanse i naučio da čujem nove oblike, staze iza mene više nije bilo. Sam u nepoznatoj zemlji, bez povratka i orijentacije. Možda bi tačnije bilo reći da je ona pronašla mene. Da. To je mnogo bolje. Pojavila se kroz maglu beznadežnosti i moj život je krenuo da se prelama. Osećam miris svežeg voća… Moj dlan je topao… I taj glas… doziva me.

miris-svezeg-vocaNikada nisam sebe posmatrao kao preterano hrabru osobu. Moja glupost je daleko nadmašivala moju mudrost i ako pitate većinu ljudi koja me je poznavala… Well… Nema ni potrebe ići tamo. Kako to onda, da sam se našao ovde? Koliko su komplikovani lavirinti koje gradimo u sebi? I koliko je potrebno od nas da bi smo izašli iz njih? Jedna iskra, jedna knjiga, jedan vuk samotnjak u čijim očima vidiš dubinu sopstvene duše i tvoj vidik je zauvek promenjen.

Pokušavam da povežem sebe sa sećanjem na neku drugu osobu. I vidim metamorfozu. Vidim malenu crkvicu u mestu u kome sam odrastao i crkvenu portu. Vidim paljenje badnjaka i ikone koje su oživele. Miris kuvanog vina i rakije i cepanje realnosti. Vidim stazu…

Skrivene su prepreka koje ugradimo u sebe. Neke su toliko duboko da nismo ni svesni da su tu. A tu je i pitanje nevremena koje nas čeka ukoliko se odlučimo da pođemo tim putem. Ali ja sam rešen i ništa me nije moglo sprečiti. Koliko pogled seže staza je vodila sve dublje i dublje u izmaglicu kojom i nisam bio naročito oduševljen. Teren je bio prilično negostoljubiv. Posegnuti u sebe znači naučiti navođenje novim čulima. Više ne verujem svojim granicama, one su iluzija. Tu su da me prevare, nisu mi prijatelj.

Kada su mi se oči privikle na mrak, osetio sam se nelagodno. I ni malo zadovoljno. Počelo je da mi se sviđa. “Postoji duh u mom srcu”, pomislio sam. I sa tom mišlju vreme je postalo teško kao kamen. Pritiskao me je i hodanje stazom učinio gotovo nemogućim. Pao sam na kolena i osetio oštar bol. Na ivici staze, sedeo je mali dečak. Gledao me je krajnje ozbiljno, kao da ne shvata šta izvodim. Bio mi je jako poznat i taman kada sam hteo da ga pitam za ime, pokazao mi je rukom ka drvetu koje nisam do tada primećivao i prekinuo me.

Drvo je lagano svetlucalo i nije mi bilo jasno otkuda potiče taj sjaj. Kamen na mojim leđima je postajao još teži ako je to ikako moguće. Doći do drveta, osećao sam je zadatak kome nisam dorastao. Ali ta svetlost… Odakle dolazi? I zašto je doživljavam tako lično?

Učinilo mi se da sam čuo glas i točkovi u meni su se pokrenuli. Varnice su krenule da sevaju i šuštanje lišća se učini udobnijim nego ikada. Oko mene je bila šuma ogledala. I svaki odraz je imao svoju priču, vešto sakrivenu i vešto ukorenjenu, a tlo je bilo plodno. Pogledah svoj odraz i na prvi pogled ne videh ništa neuobičajeno. Odraz je goreo tihim plamenom i lagano menjao. Video sam smeh, video sam patnju, video sam muškarca i video ženu, zver me je gledala i ispitivala pogledom, bio sam čovek i životinja. Napokon moj odraz se potpuno promenio. Postao je zbir svih pre njega i izgubio definiciju. Ostao sam samo ja i osetio jako usamljeno. Beznadežno. Šuma se ispunila maglom. Staza je nestala. Bio sam izgubljen.

Opet se čuo glas. Imao je oblik sudbine. Ovog puta je sigurno bio tu. Dolazio je u snopovima svetlosti i nijansi i svaka je bila nežnija od sledeće. Dodirnuo sam jednu. Nije se povukla i to mi dade nadu. Svaki novi talas sve topliji. Odakle dolazi ova magija?

Ovog puta kretanje nije bilo toliko teško. Čak štaviše, postajalo je sve lakše kako je svetlost bila bliže.Jesam li se ja kretao ka njoj, ili ona ka meni? Da li je to drvo u samom centru tog glasa ili me igra boja obmanjuje. Ima nečeg tamo, na tom magičnom prevoju sveta i to nešto zna moje ime. Moje pravo ime. Zove me i daje mi snagu. I tako je lično…

Osećam miris svežeg voća i boje su slatke i mirisne. Opijaju i svaki ukus je mapa nove lokacije gde su sakrivene prepreke koje me sprečavaju da nesputano volim. Sada znam gde se nalaze. Moje su da ih osvojim i uklonim. Prepuštam se mirisima i osećam nežan dodir ruke na svom obrazu. Osećam se sigurno. Osećam se voljeno.

Pronašla me je na spoju dve boje i nežno šapnula: “Dozvoli da postanem definicija tvog odraza”. Moj dlan je topao, na mojoj ruci prsten sa njenim imenom. Njenim pravim imenom. I taj glas… doziva me… Više se nikad neću izgubiti….

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miris-svezeg-vocaI found her at the juncture of two colors. Once I learned to touch new shades and learned to hear the new shapes, path behind me was gone. Alone in a strange land, with no return and orientation. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that she found me. Yes. It ‘s much better. She appeared through the fog of hopelessness and my life started to refract. I smell the fresh fruits… My hand is warm… And that voice… It’s calling me.

I never thought of myself as excessively bold person. My wisdom was far outweighed by my stupidity and if you ask most people who knew me… Well… No need to go there. How come then, I wound up here? How complicated are labyrinths we build into ourselves? And how much is required of us to come out of them? A spark, a book, one lone wolf in whose eyes you see the depth of your own soul and your perspective is forever changed.

I’m trying to connect myself with the memory of another person. And I see the metamorphosis. I see a small church in the place where I grew up and the churchyard. I see the burning of the Yule log and icons that came to life. The smell of mulled wine and rakija and tearing of reality. I see a path…

Hidden are barriers we build into ourselves. Some are so deep that we are not aware that they’re even there. And then there is the issue of bad weather that awaits us if we decide to go that route. But I was determined and nothing could stop me. As far as the eye can see, path led deeper and deeper into the mist with which I was not particularly impressed. The terrain was quite inhospitable. To reach out into yourself is to learn the new guidance senses. I no longer believe my borders, they are illusions. They are here to trick me, they’re not my friend.

When my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I felt uneasy. And not at least pleased. I was beginning to like it. “There’s a ghost in my heart”, I thought. And with that thought, time became heavy as a rock. It pressed me and made walking the path almost impossible. I fell to my knees and felt a sharp pain. At the edge of the track, sat a little boy. He looked at me very seriously, as if he is not understanding what I perform. He was very familiar and I was about to ask him his name, when he showed me his hand to the tree of which I did not previously noticed and interupted me.

The tree lightly flickered and I was not clear from where comes that glow. Rock on my back was getting even more heavy if at all possible. Getting to the tree, I felt was the task which I have not grow up to. But the light… Where did it come from? And why did it felt so personal ?

I thought I heard a voice and within me the wheels were set in motion. Sparks started flashing and the rustling of the leaves felt more comfortable than ever. Around me was a forest of mirrors. And each reflection had its own story, skillfully and artfully concealed and rooted. And the soil was fertile. I looked at my reflection and at first glance I saw nothing unusual. Reflection did burned in a low flame and slowly changed. I saw laughter, I saw suffering, I saw a man and a woman, the beast looked at me and questioned me with its gaze, I was a man and animal. Finally, my reflection has completely changed. It became the sum of all prior and lost definition. I was left by myself and just felt so lonely. Hopeless. The forest filled with fog. The track was gone. I was lost.

Again a voice. It had a shape of destiny. This time it was definitely there. It came via beams of light and shade, and each one was more gentle than the next. I touched one. It did not withdrew, and that gave me hope. Each new wave even warmer . Whence comes this magic ?

This time moving was not so hard. Moreover, it became increasingly easier as the light was closer. Did I moved toward her, or she to me? Is that tree in the center of the voice or dancing of colors is deceiving me. There is something there, in that magical folding of the world, and that something knows my name. My true name. It’s calling me and it gives me strength. And it is so personal…

I smell the fresh fruit and the colors are sweet and fragrant. They’re intoxicating and every taste is a map of new location to the hidden obstacles that prevent me from uninhibited love. Now I know where they are. They are mine to win and remove. I’m letting go to the smell and feel gentle touch of a hand on my cheek. I feel safe. I feel loved.

She found me at the juncture of two colors and softly whispered: “Let me become definition of your reflection”. My hand is warm. On it ring with her name. Her true name. And that voice… calling me… I will never be lost again….

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