Aurea Cailin

Aurea Cailin

I am a traveller, flying halfway around the world, observing them mostly from the wide, freshly boundless sky, but also from the nourishing powerful ground I never get tired. Aurea Cailín is the name that echoes out to me. Aurea stands for the `golden‘; thing everyone carries in their hearts. Some will associate it with the shiny metal that makes it financially rich and dependent. Cailín means “girl“; in your language, a living being who wants to move freely and carefree in the blue sky protected by clouds. She makes the whole world happy with her character unrecognized and always takes on a defensive role, because girls often have a different position. I often laughed modestly. Laughter behind a masquerade, often behind a helplessness of my being. Am I enough? Am I valuable?

The starry sky is an open ear for such questions, is it also ready for an answer? Does there have to be an answer? Confusion’s written all over my face. Eyes for a search to fill a void. It is supposed to chase away the ghosts dancing around in your head, the dance of an extravagant piece that is not least called life. I’m upset! I’m fascinated! Tears are forming in my eyes! The starry sky laughs at me, “Are you really that foolish?“; he asks. “What do you mean?“; I ask.  ” Am I foolish? Yes,“; I said, “if by foolish you mean your own vulnerability, which allows other people to act wantonly without considering their actions. Losing a hope that shouldn’t be lost. Yes, then I’m foolish. “I said. “Endless universe, you and your limitlessness, what makes you seem so beautiful,“; I asked. “It’s the single little lights I’m guarding. The one I protect,“; said the universe and I thought. “Do you really protect the lights or do the lights protect you?“; The universe was surprised; it had probably rarely thought about it. The days and nights went by and I waited for an answer. Nothing came!

My body was out of balance, a restlessness overcame my being. The woods I thinned breathed well-known music into my ears. Life, the movement of rhythms and harmony spread. The branches of the birches and weeping willows danced dynamically in the wind chime. What were you going to tell me? “Say branches of the white towering birch and the melancholic swinging weeping willow, what do you have to tell?“ The rustle of the branches stopped like never. I kneeled before them, kissed the precious ground, stroked the living roots – living beings that are forgotten. They asked, “What do we have to tell?“; and an echo sounder was created so that the reverberation still vibrated in my ears and limbs for a few seconds. A sadness briefly surrounded my figure. “We stand here and move to the wind. We enjoy pausing birds by listening to their chirping and participating in the free life,“; said the proud white strong. “What shall I tell you?“; asked the hanging strong one.  ” Burying the roots deep into the earth, I am often a refuge. My existence symbolizes transience and truthfulness. It is not uncommon for lovers to come to me to answer their silent questions. But you, little creature, look different. What’s the matter with you? I can’t quite interpret it,“; the willow asked a little worried. “I wanted to hear your stories. You probably don’t get a chance to talk about it many times. You who have been on Earth for so long. “

“Hearty creature, you have no need to worry about us. Nevertheless, thank you very much! It’s a rare gesture that we won’t forget. Truthfully, we do not speak, rather it is the wind that makes our silent thoughts audibly pull. He often poems something about it. So, don’t always believe him,“; both said with a little laugh that echoed several times.

I continued to cross the vast land, the flat long fields, the colourful meadows, the never dull forests, the towering mountains, the wild rivers, the boundless seas, the tranquil, introverted villages and the never endless, glowing cities. Each time I had fascinating and strange experiences. Experiences that made me afraid in my deep inner being, which paralysed my muscles and nerves. Didn’t agree with my thoughts. Again, other experiences gave me strength to look to the sunny side of the earth and to follow the rays. Maybe they could give me hope and dreams and show me the future, even if sometimes dark clouds covered the sky or even a thick fog blocked the view, I was forced to leave the route because the wind loved to tell me its crazy stories. His sound confused me. He steered me in stormy, disoriented directions, to winding paths, like a labyrinth, so that it sometimes took days, weeks, months, years until I heard a well-known voice and found my way back to my roots. Stella Polaris became me a compass in the starry sky. The White Tree King and the Queen of Sorrows became a fascination of the life of my inner mysterious soul, which included a connectedness of all elements. An exchange of different materials woven into a mechanically functioning cell.

On an orange-red shaded mountain, a strange, magically lava-like sensuality spread. There’s a boy at the top. With Eagle eyes, he observes the world spread out before him. Wrapped in a brown cape, he seemed majestic. The hair blows away in the wind. I was enchanted! Who was that creature? What creature? An ancestor? Our faces met, the gaze clinging to the pupils to read the story of a soul that reflects the existence of existence. There was a shadow of sorrow, hope, helplessness, anger and confidence that could not be concealed. A visible companion of restless spirits. Who can defeat them? The answer goes into the wide universe. The creative being, Fan Neno, towards me, appeared to me through its purity as an image of this world, to awaken with the next blossom on the night evening. His figure had enveloped me. I was trapped in a dream illusion. Fan Neno, the dreaming boy smiled, and my heart shone. The late summer ritual of a meteoric appearance of light with numerous, penetrating, falling stars was perceived by us. Wrapped in the protection of desires, a brief white magic. The wind invited us to dance and radiated harmony. The harmony that hides a melody, in the rhythm of an occidental conviviality. In battle we sought the stable centre that promised eternal unity.