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La verdad nos libera de la esclavitud
julio 3, 2018

El último libro de la trilogía ahora tiene índice interactivo. Echad un vistazo gratis por diferentes capítulos. No os aburriréis y os ayudará a ver la realidad que nos intentan ocultar, aunque esté a nuestro alrededor. Así es: CUANDO TE DES CUENTA.
Todos mis libros tienen precios bajos, para que todo el mundo los pueda leer porque son de interés social. La verdad nos libera de la esclavitud.


CRUZA LA RAYA cumple 10 años este Junio
junio 25, 2018





febrero 28, 2018

portada cruza la raya

<< What can I tell them? I do not know any construction of more than seven thousand years. The wise man says fifteen … no, seventeen thousand, years! >>. Without any answer and impotent, I am left with the only thing that ignorance grants: emptiness. In the silence, discouragement and sadness begin to fall on us like an unsustainable burden, visible in their dismayed and unbelieving faces, and felt in my soul.

The wise man breaks mutism somewhat regretfully:

–It cannot be, so much work for nothing, disappeared! Our goal is to leave traces of our passage through the Earth, any detail can be decisive … –touch his earrings, and at the same time he looks at me, I think to point out that even that of which I had laughed, is important- … The purpose of our works is to leave information for the future! It may be… that part of us perishes and those that remain are persecuted. They want to make disappear most of science, the knowledge that can guide the future race, so that forgetting the origin of science forget their own origin. It cannot be, there must have been some work left! Everything will become very difficult. They will use our knowledge and our works in their own favor and for their exaltation, but everything, not… cannot disappear…

Their glances, mired in sorrow, still betraying pain, await a response that leaves in the air a hope for the future of their work. While I watch their eyes with expectant glances, fixed on mine, one of them leaves the meeting slowly and silently, leaving with his head sunk between his shoulders, with heavy movements; reveals leaving behind part of his hopes.



Shirley will be the name with which I will call the first person who communicated with me and on more occasions, patient and kind, she tried to give me valuable information; her courage and trust deserve a special thanks from me. She really reminds me of a woman of this time, that’s why I give her a feminine name.



–They have made many constructions around the earth; of great importance and difficulty –Shirley’s optimism springs up vividly; try to awaken my memories.

I glean in my memory, I try to find some referent or similarity in my scarce knowledge of ancient history, there must be something to alleviate the pain that is causing the vacuum, some detail; a spark of light that makes me remember or relate this place with familiar stories.



At that time it occurred to me to ask her what her name was since we spoke as friends but without previous presentation: although memorizing names and less in the first encounter, it is not something that happens to me as a general rule, hence the need to use the nickname: Shirley, as it is impossible for me to remember the name of the companion. In that position she diligently gave the protagonism and emphasized the name of the wise, of which I had only a vague memory: it could be something similar to Pahtahahtahath. I was not even able to pronounce it correctly in several attempts, nor with the patient help of Shirley; between the laughter of his companion, and of the same wise man, who also tried to make me reproduce those strange names, until I decided to cease the effort, and so the four of us ended up in laughter, of strange resonances; but it helped us to release the tension that the encounter and the contribution of information on their part, and the lack of data for mine, accumulated in that circle that formed such a peculiar congress.



Unusual oddities and unusual circumstances crowd together. Sounds strange to my “ear” in an unrecognizable place, with faces, clothes, aptitudes, a whole unknown world. I want to offer them a halo of hope and only find a void in the memory. The frustration that ignorance imposes faces the uneasy desire to discover the enigmatic world that I have before me, in a blind struggle, without a glimpse of the destiny to which it will lead me… << But I will not stop trying to discover what is offered to me even if I do not know why, the other reality is also like that, as here; the answers arrive after a process of assimilation and maturity >>.



Little or nothing I knew about ancient history or archeology, and as an eyewitness, I was stuck in a living document, in a magnificent construction where transcendental events took place, and all this originated me strong emotions in escalations and almost uncontrollable descents, endured, with high cost of my energy.



<< I will not continue with the names, I cannot even reproduce them, and I do not know if my memory will be able to register them. It is not a dream – I repeat to myself – this is another reality! I have to capture as many details as possible, memorize; I do not know what this means but there may be a lot at stake. If I go back to the future I will have to decipher it “I alone”. Once again I see myself on the “lonely” path of the search for myself; in one of those dreams that guide us the direction to follow, in another of the subtle crosses that make up life. And now a succession of examples that link past and future are configured in a dream, becoming the endless present >>.

Facing my thoughts flying in all directions, I observe something in the sage who draws my attention in an imperious way.

<< What object do he has between his hands? >>. When I notice my interest focused on what he holds with reverence, like a kind of small and thick book, he squeezes the object against himself, as if he showed, with a certain reserve, to be protecting something very valuable. I let the detail go by without making any comment, for fear of provoking mistrust, or coming to seem insidious for lack of diplomacy.

–Viracochas. That’s what they’re called in this area –Shirley, tenacious, tries to help me remember with names.


–So they call to the wises. And Viracocha to the instructor god.

I continue in the attempt to identify the names, or at least collect them in the memory to be able to identify them someday, assuming my return to the starting point, to that time that corresponds to me to live. In this moment, take shape in my mind the figure of Jesus, another man god. << Why does Viracocha remind me, an instructor god, to another teacher of the world, with the powerful repercussion that the figure of Jesus came projected into history during … almost two thousand years ago? An almost perfect place… With a god included here nearby: you cannot ask for more >>. I think it a bit incredulous as well as intrigued.



What I saw, my impressions and information, I was leaving stored by a conscious procedure, and considering that I would not have “time”, and without threshing, I just kept everything in memory. A name was authentically alive and clear in my retentive: “Viracocha”. The first time I heard him pronounce it seemed insulting to me, contemptuous of the sound similarity of the ending, “cocha” (female name in Spanish, female pig). These details helped mechanically, and relative, to set names in the memory of someone like me with great ease to forget them, in addition, his rank was that of “a god” nothing more and nothing less, how to forget it!

Another name that I did not like because of the memory he brought me was “Pacal”; it was not so long ago that I had seen a movie (American of the eighties, bad, maybe premiere on television, but I saw it until the end because we had only two channels at the time) in which the bad guy was called that. They did not seem like names to a god; but in me grew a great curiosity for him and for knowing the role and position that he occupied in that fascinating place. Another name sounded to me like kukuxklan and that’s why today I can remember “kukulcam”, which I did not like because of its sound similarity with a fanatical segregationist group.



While the Sage and Shirley repeat different names, the companion observes me attentively with candid expressivity, without blinking.

–Very far from here they know him as” Quetztzantlcoatl –or something like Shirley said. (I insist on my difficulty to assimilate these names with unknown “sounds”).

They do not remind me of any historical personality. Although the latter seems similar to a well-known Central American character, but I do not think he can be the same and I do not know enough about him, barely anything, to waste time on conjecture. At times my mind becomes entangled with time and history without letting me out, my mind is blocked and an inner storm overwhelms my emotional part and disturbs my state of mind; I sink in sadness because I cannot give a hopeful answer.

I try not to show the pain and the impotence that invades me, that mercilessly wastes my energy, and above all, I try to hide the intrigue generated by the divine character and the position that he exercises in this enigmatic place; and I question who these wise men are. << Is there always someone who directs others, supposedly inferior? I think it would be better to go tactfully to get to know something true, and especially, about someone of such high status, as Viracocha >>.

Submerged in elucidating the unknowns suspended over the group, suddenly, there is a transformation; quick crossings of looks begin; and in this, the sudden and resolute decision of the wise man.

–This will have to find out the “boss”!

Without understanding his expressive tone very well, it makes me feel like I’m a naughty girl.

<< Well, I’m not here to look for a whim; also, if this wise person is not the boss, it’s time for him to know what is happening here >>.

With ease and decision he turns on himself. Surprise me again, greatly. The wise move, without touching the ground! As at a height of four palms, literally, he leaves, flying. His black cloak snagged on the front of his neck, falling on his shoulders, waves as he moves behind him, and its reverse appears as immaculate snow; the harmonious movement of the cape reminds me of a manta ray plowing the depths of the sea. It accelerates the flight, in progression, until it reaches a lot of speed, and it disappears in the same direction that I came from.

What I just witnessed is an undeniable exhibition, made on purpose for me to contemplate. The reverse side of the cloak, like its inner tunic, is identical to the “material” of the unique model worn by the countless “spiritual technicians”: to call them in some way.

<< All this deserves the consuming effort of my energy, which I notice decreasing at times, and although the pain produced by uncertainty can corrode, I will also leave it parked for another moment, like the unsolved mysteries. How far can this go? What more can be asked of a dream that searches in memory, a faded time in the historical records!? This has to be an answer, which I may not be able to complete here; I will most likely have to link with the other reality; when I wake up. I have to remember this. Record it in memory. Remember when I wake up.

Remember. Remember … I will resist until I finish with my strength; I hope, do not wake up yet. Although, I know, that this is not a simple dream >>.



They followed and they continued arriving at my mind endless questions with such speed that definitively, did not know by which to begin. I could not with so much … But I had to be able. My ignorance could not be so great as to abandon such a book of wisdom. The experiences showed me in events more and more unsuspected, how the magic became real, visible, in a time that seemed more advanced than mine, and yet, there were thousands of years to get to the “now”.




Copyright Todos los derechos reservados sobre este escrito María del Rosario Cordero Tesón-escrito-copyright ©®©® CROSS THE STRIPE copyright María del Rosario Cordero Tesón ©®©®

febrero 18, 2018

portada cruza la raya


Previous chapter: THE GREAT MOUND





Suddenly someone appeared who broke my schemes if it fits even more since I went through the door. His face made me think of the Star Wars, he had no physical resemblance to the beings that I had seen so far. He was of another race, unknown, with extravagant and primitive appearance; of slight build, thin, or rather, bony; of whitish complexion and thick, stiff skin; the round eyes, so small that when I met them I got lost in the depth of their eyes without being able to appreciate their hue, maybe brownish, and surrounded by a kind of bags that I did not know if they were dark circles, or if it was part of the features of his race; without eyebrows, did not even seem to have eyelashes, or did not appreciate; the nostrils with a small prominence, and the small mouth with thick lips. Its long lobes protruded from a cap of consistent leather perfectly tanned and glossy, with seams on both sides, in a seam contoured from the temples to approach the nape of handcrafted, purified and perfect finish adapting to his head. In the prolonged open lobes with a large hole hung an amount – apparently in the first impression – exaggerated with earrings, reminded me of the “piercing” of fashion in our time, this detail above all, and together with the set of peculiarities, it provoked a laughter without malice that I struggled to repress and that my forced gesture betrayed.

 The earrings were small carvings of animals and objects with shapes unrecognizable by me, made in some kind of wood or bone, of different materials and different tonality: the miniatures were archaic, but worked with three-dimensional geometry of exquisite fineness. The crowded group of earrings emitted a pleasant sound when they tinkled with the movement of his head. Another distinctive was his black matte layer of a rustic material, of rare straight fall and at the same time stately, majestic but without ostentation, with a vertical seam on each side of the torso. Such were the contrasts of the peculiar personality.



The newcomer brings the gesture of disbelief and anger.

– What have you done! … You have stopped a job that requires a lot of concentration and energy to coordinate and start up the mental support necessary to transport the stone … We need a lot of preparation time each time this should start to work!

His strange face with a temper of anger makes me release a healthy and spontaneous laugh that on this occasion I cannot contain, despite the quarrel of guilt against me, and has caused the increase in his anger, without my intention or encouragement of offending anyone. But as a reflex, he directs his penetrating gaze directly into my eyes, I can barely sustain his intensity, nor can I decipher the purpose of his convulsive expression.

-We must hurry, time is running out!!

He watches me closely for a moment. Then, the calm appears on his face, a sign that reassures me; something seems to motivate him to calm down after leaving obvious evidence of his character. With his extravagant image, others become more normal and similar to me. We looked at each other questioningly as we exchanged agile glances among all the members of the small group, but above all my curiosity was captured by the unusual being, and by the perceptible expression of amazement and bewilderment that my face surely shows, without delay, my first interlocutor breaks the ice.

-He is a wise man; it is he who coordinates our work – while he presents us with a beautiful and sweet smile – he knows time and the terrestrial sphere.

-These lands in the future will not be like now -the wise is pronounced with “voice” of echo, deep and excited, as if coming out of the anticipated pain of those who presage … a catastrophe-. They will be much higher. Everything will undergo great changes, the terrestrial plates in this part of the earth … are in continuous movement and there will also be … very sudden changes. Do you know this construction, in your time? …!



I have tried to revive these sequences, but there is a gap in my memory, maybe the wise man told me the name of the town, sometimes I think I remember that he gave it two names, the first unknown and as if he spoke to me in Chinese, and another, that every time I think about it, I think I’m more sure that it was mentioned as the possible name by which it would be known later in time, but it’s a very diffuse memory. It could have been that my ignorance and conviction made me believe that it would not be the same today when we did not recognize it: everything that was seen and what I heard in this place was so strange; or perhaps, I saw an insurmountable anachronism, or simple and stupid prejudices, caused this emptiness, and it is possible, that me reacted with a negative gesture, of total disorientation. But today I still do not know why when I remember, after Viracocha, << Tiahuanaco >>, it was the name that someone seemed to pronounce inside my head without stopping repeating it.



-… In what time are you?

He remains pensive for a moment, and suddenly, he responds impetuously.

– Between your time and this, fifteen … or seventeen thousand years can pass! Seventeen thousand years! You come from the future!

The response so concise and explicit leaves me stunned and exceeds my limits. My image at this moment has to be perplexing, the reflection, I imagine, of the facial expressions of the set of attending. The unknowns, in this case by the entanglement with time and space, cause me daze and the need forces me to concentrate on myself to dig into the memory: I hope to find something to cling to maintain my sanity. << What construction in the world has this antiquity? The pyramids are not dated in more than five millennia. B. C. To what temporal space does this history belong? >>.

Thousands of questions crowd unchecked, enveloping me with my ignorance in a vertiginous vortex, of indescribable magnitude. Located in a time outside of time and within it, in a past that has disappeared in history and in a present that comes from the future, in which I present myself, ignorant, I feel a kind of shame with my naivety against primitive science. Another concern also crosses my mind intermittently: the uncertainty does not abandon its struggle to alter the security of myself, and I am disturbed by a huge question among the many unknowns: if I will have enough time to discover the meaning of my encounter with the admirable building and unveiling the mystery that houses this treasure, with riches that I cannot imagine.

I recognize a similarity in this route with that of an initiatory path of the other reality. As the journey through life is to understand through meditation the experiences that occur in the parallel paths of each human; psychic and physical, between material vigil and immaterial dreams, processes that enrich the being without occupying space and illustrate it in the space-time dimension, necessary to assimilate knowledge, and driven by destiny we walk the path towards wisdom, with the timeless dimension of the ethereal dreams and their particular teaching; Consciousness, ego, the real and the oneiric, converge for the same cause: evolution. A dream can be as real as a reality, and reality as dreamlike as dreams themselves; it only depends on the prism that you want to observe, although for all there is the same thing; The observer as an individual is free to think and make his own decisions, to choose to discern the scope of these realities: free will. I am also conscious (relapsing in the appreciation of the speed of my thoughts), even to be able to analyze two simultaneous thoughts without confusion, (two open windows in the computer of my mind), I think of unlimited possibilities, I notice at times, that the need stimulates the exercise of this skill.

<< Time, time … that I have to take advantage of! It is not the moment of so much meditation, I have to hurry. Where to start with so many unknowns to clear, and how to fit the enigmatic puzzle? The Bible could be my reference, but I do not recognize any text that resembles this magical world with purposes of service to the “future”, and there is no resemblance to any other story heard or read by me. Unless … the penumbra … persistent, to which many stories allude as <The Night Of The Times> >>.



Next chapter:



Copyright Todos los derechos reservados sobre este escrito María del Rosario Cordero Tesón-escrito-copyright ©®©® CROSS THE STRIPE copyright María del Rosario Cordero Tesón ©®©®

Sólo Tú
febrero 14, 2018


Hoy me explayo… Él podría pasar y ver… Mensaje para mí amado Harlista:


Por ti vine desde más allá de las estrellas,

para encontrarme contigo,

y ya de niños

supimos de nuestro Amor mutuo,

y en la adolescencia, en la juventud y en la madurez…

y a pesar de las aberraciones que nos han endosado

los adversarios del amor

desde el principio y a través de toda nuestra vida,

sólo tú, has sido mi Amor, con mayúscula,

tú llegas a lo más profundo de mi corazón

y mi corazón sale tras de ti cuando siente tu partida…

Sólo tú, eres mi Amor, tú, eres mi Amor Único.

enero 24, 2018

To read


enero 24, 2018


Suddenly a new feeling is installed in me, is the faint feeling of being directed in a specific direction. Even inside me I appreciate it, without knowing why, or to who, but whoever or whatever possesses ability to instill confidence in the unknown road full of endless singularities, with enigmas for training far superior to mine. However, I remember the idea assumed many years ago: knowledge comes through unsuspected channels to those who yearn to know and social circumstances denied academic instruction.

<< This is a lesson. In due time the enigma will be deciphered, despite finding me in an imprecise time that baffles me; and I have a certainty: that of being in a living space, archaic and evolved at the same time, as well as including refinement, within a dazzling work among the existing dimness. <<The light will come as always happens, and the moment of unveiling the wisdom here will also reach>>.

I self-suggest that nothing has to cause me harm, and I am absorbed, between streams of (different) thoughts crowding in my mind, including not knowing where to put such immense and extraordinary didactic material and if my receptive capacity can contain it.

I cross an empty space. The instinct of protection pushes me to a quick search to find what I already feel familiar: the solid and protective walls, taken by me, as guide indicators to follow. Between the night that at times seems to lighten and darken, and discouraged, I notice in skirting again a kind of wall, if I can call it that, because in this case I do not see what is properly called a wall.

With the penumbra and the probable position of being in a dark area, the darkness is so dense that it prevents me from seeing. I can only appreciate that I surround darkness, even, gloomier, and arouse me respect to touch its outline, even the awe.

Without knowing where I am going -as can be seen throughout the “journey” and the visual-sensorial journey-, but with the discernment of witnessing an unparalleled, revealing, and explicit document, the route to follow is not controlled by me, I would not even know where to go, I could be circling the same place without knowing; I limit myself to protect myself next to walls that form a great construction … or a set of great constructions, and to continue, this incessant walking. Intuition and perseverance … and something … enigmatic, impel me in this “uncertain” way.

The outline I walk marks great straight angles, long and gloomy lines with their corners, like a staircase with gigantic steps falling from the edge; I advance without separating from his side, an itinerary without options and only guide to not lose orientation and not return to the starting point. I go close to a thick shadow in another shadow, I tremble at the thought that there will be the other side, and what can it be? the other side, while the tension rises in the midst of my ignorance in which I am not willing to stay. << Surely there will be a cause, all this wonder cannot be just because, yes, or for nothing. This is not an ornament. And not a grave either. It does not contain vanity or ostentation, but evident evidences of an intelligence that surpasses the ordinary and that in every detail, exposes with symbols some knowledge that challenges my understanding >>.


It came to seem like a heavy joke to me to achieve one angle after another, it led me to the always inopportune and detestable uneasiness, growing because of the uncertainty of not seeing any sign of difference in that contour of shadows; When I checked that repetition, I realized that it would have been convenient to count the angles traveled, but my acceleration in the march continued progressive with the hope of reaching before the end of the disturbing and persistent blackness. With clarity I appreciated that this was not a work of nature, its vertices were well defined and the considerable distances between them, too.


Finally I reach a plane where the dense darkness is cut by a faint crepuscular color. I reach the last vertex, to the consoling more clear hue, and I separate at a short distance; I try to see what this outline is that has kept me in a black labyrinth.

I see a huge “mound” that does not suggest more than that, a mound. After all, the journey so far has only raised me questions, many questions and no answer. From the position where I stand, near the last vertex, the disconcerting mound lets me see the front and its right side. Part of the shaded area: it forms a hill of artificial appearance; the image offers me … another unanswered question! I walk a short distance on the brightest front, without finding edges or entrances; everything is a short grass that extends from the ground to the hill. I turn confused and energetic about myself to see the surroundings: I contemplate a wide panorama, a huge valley slightly undulated, radiates calmness, and quiets my disrupt mood.


It was a journey of lime and sand to reach this enclave, constant oppositions in each finding, which as they were happening was surrendering to resignation because of my inability to solve their enigmas; where the plethoric mood changed in moments to sink into desolation, into a repetitive dynamic.

The feeling traveled alone through a roller coaster, the independent ethereal enclosure, exclusive and personal component of the human being to which the images arrive and transforms them into emotions, even outside the material body, as it happens in dreams, and he, crumbles the experiences to discern and clarify values, to be able to discard the ornament, just as alchemy with its distiller process filters impurities, and reveals the eternal youth by discarding the obsolete, useless matter; As the serpent comes out of itself renewed, so also the spirit reveals all its greatness.

In some sections I was immersed in my own reflections.



A musical sound envelops me with subtlety: it takes me out of repeated introspection without being able to determine when it has started, I cannot distinguish the direction of its origin, I do not even recognize the instrument or instruments that originate the sound, but its harmony projects me idyllic peace to merge in my being. I try to distinguish whether the source of the music arises in me or comes from outside, and I am not unable to reach a conclusion.

I concentrate on my perceptive faculty. The melodious concert now penetrates me with delicate softness in deep thoughts. << I see the resemblance between the journey made in my life and the path through this mysterious place as if they were parallel paths, with the same emotions felt in the course of life, between frustrations and successes, and in the same way, without getting immediately the definitive answer to complete the meaning of the various circumstances, which sometimes seem absurd, but after going through the necessary section with their contingencies (chosen by the corresponding scriptwriter of each particular destination and accepted by the interested person) the teaching, without leaving room for nonsense, because they show the <encounter with oneself>.  The search, with the heavy burden that originates the uncertainty, is always driven by the hopeful encounter with the explanation. Just like here, in this place, I do not know what I was looking for in the beginning, and the same journey has cleared a purpose: to know … why am I here? And what is this?! And in essence, the search for the other side is repeated, although now the experience is in another reality, two realities and the same goal: answers, knowledge! The same road in different dimensions. Here I feel the same emotions, concentrated in short spaces, with delirious rhythms, as another parallel initiation to life, but this is a circuit of great speed! There are too many enigmatic novelties happening without interruption and I worry about having difficulties to retain them in memory, although I try to apprehend everything possible with all my strength. I will keep the strength … with what helps me to gain momentum. A graphic retrospective recorded in memory will help me. The indicators will be the symbolic points of the journey, the ones that remind me where the energy reached levels where it was almost instantaneous to overcome the deep falls, and even without understanding, in the midst of darkness, at times, the environment seems to light up strengthen me when the contradictions begin to weigh heavily and threaten not to let me escape ».

I realize at times -when my energy rises-, to use abilities that I do not use as a norm in the other reality, it is as if I had a computer in my mind with several windows open to be able to cover what in a normal state is not used . And it would be possible to do if we exercised it. <<I’m not someone different here, I’m still me. Why could not it be?! This faculty is not a monopoly of geniuses; it is asleep in each one of us; we’ll have to give it a touch and wake it up>>.

<< In any case, the keys of reference for my memory will be the stairway with the sublime entrance to … a cavern of silence, with an environment reminiscent of ceremonies; the expressive stone faces; a delirium of walls built like puzzles formed with gigantic stones, and some so tiny that the contrast gave laughter, and at the beginning, The Door, the entrance to the mystery of this set of constructions that in my disoriented and dark path I left by ignorance to understand its message: although aware that it contained them and certainly, of great value. And this mysterious mound … Will there be little impulse to encourage all these wonders to continue investigating this prodigious place? At least, I will try to record in memory all that my capacity admits. Everything comes to the right moment for its resolution and will show the result when the occasion is propitious, always happens. At the end of the – sometimes difficult – experiences, everything is solved in a simpler way than we had imagined in the beginning >>.


Beside the huge mound the music immersed me in deep thoughts, from which I came out when I began to notice certain movements through the undulating valley: when I saw a long path, similar to a basting with tiny stitches of platinum thread.


– What is that!? … What is happening here?

Without any fear and determination I approach halfway to the disconcerting procession, unusual, and amazing. The row, composed of white dots with a faint glow, is parallel to a parade of huge blocks of stone; they meander suspended in the air along the great valley, until they lose themselves in their undulations. I go a little closer to the surprising path. Stunned!

– Does not anyone notice my presence? What do they do?! Why am I here seeing this stony parade that is lost with the sight? And what is the point of this meeting, if nobody sees me?

The white row is composed of many people, as far as I can see, on one side and the other, there could be several hundred. The distance between each one is maybe one and a half meters (I reiterate the special point of my vision, the perspective is aerial), they are sitting on the ground in a state of meditation. There is no doubt that it is a perfect disposition of higher minds with thoughts in unison. The stone moles advance in front of them, as in a quiet flight. They are doing heavy work without brute force, they use refined tools: energy projected from their minds!

I am overwhelmed, overcome by the frustrating sense of inability to assimilate and host such a cluster of extraordinary sequences; and I begin to suppose a possible hallucination, besides not knowing how to react by my astonishment before the admirable transport procedure.

-Someone has to see me and explain where I am, and what is happening here. This is the future…?!

I move closer, until I am very close to some components of the rosary of minds in a meditative state.

I concentrate all my energy in asking for God’s help.

<< Someone with whom I can communicate will connect with me! >>.


Just like when you ask for something and it happens without believing because you just made the request and instantly it is done, suddenly the harmonious sound, as if skidding, by a sudden braking, ceases while the huge blocks of stone stop, as a chain reaction, in a simultaneous movement they rest on the ground with slowness and delicacy; immediately deriving the group’s scattering as human beads from a broken cord. The bright white dots disintegrate along the row in a commotion, and the bewilderment has broken the prevailing harmony, although without stridency, a relative calm is maintained. I sense in some of those closest to me, something of restlessness and distrust hidden behind his face; others ask each other how this happened, what is happening?


Three of them approach. Their faces with wide eyes opened by the expression of amazement, I wonder, and I imagine with the same face that they as a result of the continuous unusual events that I am living.

We watched each other for a moment, without saying anything. Their expressions have changed in the meantime, to look at me with a clean and sweet smile that makes me feel among friends, but my astonishment remains when contemplating their “futuristic” aspects. Their heads without hair, all that I can see the same, and their eyes << are, like looking inside the ocean! >>,  of an intense dark blue. I look intrigued the looks of a group close to us. Those that are within my sight also have the same blue color, the same dark hue. Their faces are different, but with the common characteristic of a delicate beauty that does not allow to determine the sex, all with the same <androgynous> appearance. If they are not physical perfection, borders (within the canons of beauty of the European continent).

Also an identical outfit for all, a kind of white robe of fabric unknown to me; although better than fabric is more appropriate to call it, crystalline matter, iridescent with a water effect, almost sparkling, wide and without seams, in one piece, as if covered by a blanket of snow shining in the sun, adapting to the movements of the body in a magical way. They dress with a uniform and singular aesthetic, a strange unique model.

I ask myself again, still looking at them, bewildered, << Is this … the future? >>. I begin to think that my ability to assimilate cannot contain more visions of such magnitude and my mind seems about to overflow.

–What are you doing here?!

–We are building a legacy for the future race. So they can see the way of life and the knowledge that we dominate in this time. So they do not think we lived in caves.

I do not distinguish the gender of the person who takes the floor, but he responds with interest and denotes kindness.

I try to inquire with the thought for my memory.

<< Past… or, future? How can it be that everything I’ve seen, and what I’m seeing, is the past?!>>


Next chapter: THE WISE

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portada cruza la raya


enero 5, 2018

Fuente de la Imagen:



Attached to the wall without rubbing the stones, for an inexplicable respect and as if they were my protectors in this stretch of the lonely and incomprehensible journey, I begin to distinguish what looks like a large empty space in the wall. And another flash thought induces me to continue, I feel the strong attraction, in a state, already of rapture.

Immediately I find myself with a simple staircase, entering a wide cut of the wall. It is not spectacular, but it projects a ceremonial, sublime wave. The end of the short staircase has an upper tier crowned with formidable blocks carved to square, and in its center, a large frame of “door”, formed by two large columns that hold a huge lintel. It is a uniform construction with the rest of the enclosure, although it is distinguished from the foregoing by its solemn and simple feature grandiosity, it is the stamp of the majestic modesty; it is a space with magical, enveloping atmosphere, charged with magnetism generating a special sensitivity. The sobriety of the design overwhelms the senses and activates the spirit. Captivated, I scan inside and look for the door; it seems open, but I cannot see anything that indicates its existence, in the hole there is a deep darkness. I feel a presence inside, disturbing. My feelings are contradictory.

<< Someone … observes me >>.

From that interior a powerful energy is projected that makes me retreat, by an instinct reflex of protection. I hide on one side of the birth of the stairway. I am impressed to realize the imposing dimension of the stone that forms the corner and hides me from the enigmatic blackness in the hollow at the end of the staircase. << Yes … It has to be a person, or an intelligent being, if not how could I receive this sensation, of a subtle message, that I fail to understand its meaning? >>.


Not knowing what to do, I notice my childish attitude. << Hide me, it does not make sense either, you’ve seen me; my best protection will be to show myself strong, imperturbable >>. But this self-belief does not work and the fear beats hidden very close to me, until I totter; I also feel that the being of that gloomy interior has faculties to hear my thoughts, the intuition is intense, the vibrations are powerful, only, I need to see his image. << I do not know what I am facing; I can be in danger, although if he had wanted to attack me, he has me in the perfect target. No … It cannot be, his energy is very strong, I would have fulminated if he wanted to. Why is not it shown, or, can it be … that too, be afraid? >>.

I do not dare to react, I feel trapped in an absurd role with an unknown script and scenario. Suddenly I feel driven by a need to continue, and to find some answer. Between all these thoughts, again, my state of mind regains strength in a progressive ascent, until I feel a surprising change, and even mysterious. I decide to leave my hiding place, feeling the staircase with my eyes, with my mind fixed on the encounter with its peak. I look inside of … another <singular door> in which I see nothing but darkness, although inside it, I feel the beat, of a … Being.


I remained motionless for an imprecise time, there in the middle, next to the first step of access to the sober but impressive staircase. Nothing moved, and no sound broke the silence of the afterlife that seemed to overwhelm the stone kingdom, confined in a “paralyzed” environment that even the air seemed not to exist, and with that perception, that stage was integrated, like a photographed space, in my memory.


Without an apparent reason and without wanting to think more about the event because it is out of my understanding, I am preparing to leave, to continue the path despite not finding any meaning in the haul. << It seems to me that whatever it is, or whoever it is, it has no interest for me. I take the photograph fixed in my memory: without the need for the weight of a camera >>. I leave, aware of the privilege that I witnessed, and of the commitment, of unknown scope, but that testifies (without physical evidence to transport) with the effect of having awakened in my conscience the existence of an inexorable bond, that unites me to this place –and patent from this moment–. << The entrance through the door of the stone block introduced me to an unknown world, without waste; the content is of a value that I do not even reach to glimpse! The seen … and the experienced sensations, they have to have a pedagogical purpose, and the purpose, has to be an answer, a teaching, a contribution to my knowledge! >>.

The episode that just happened does not leave me indifferent, but moved by the rush that took me on a flight with the intention of monopolizing as much information as possible, it leaves me behind riddles that I feel unable to solve, much less with speed, “lost” in an unknown place, but surely, that there is a cause of weight. << It would not make sense to pass before a wonder without understanding the why, of the … so magnificent … work >>.


I went in search of some answer to so many unknowns. I did not know where I was going; it seemed to advance by simple inertia once more, immersed in the labyrinth of a building that embodied science in stone, carved, with masterful art. I understood nothing of the similar cluster of extraordinary visual and sensory wonders; but something was very clear, everything was Science! That fascinated and disconcerted me at the same time.



Next chapter



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enero 3, 2018



Hastened, fleeing from the disturbing border and in the middle of the gloom, I enter a kind of “street” without noticing how. I focus on the observation of the closest thing to me; I am attracted by the style of construction, and amazed. I assume more consciously the need to fix all images in my memory, because of the relevance that the surroundings projects. I am facing a wall that is like a puzzle in which all shapes fit. Stones of different sizes, some of considerable size, contrast with other very small, fit as if they had been modeled to masterly fill “random” holes in a wall, built, in the most complicated way possible..

I focus my attention on one of the stones: it is of a whitish color newly unworn with some veins in faint pastel pink tones, and sprinkled with subtle glitters by the great content of fine crystalline grain. I feel like I am in a new world shining discreetly under a dark cloak.

One of the pieces of stone embedded in some enormous ones is so small that they seem like a real joke prepared to make you laugh: it gives me a little giggle, and besides, it revives me in the unstoppable burst of surprises about to brimming me over on this unusual journey.

I continue my advancement, until I find a corner: almost I collide for my abstraction with the original wall; its angle is perfect! Among the variety of sizes of embedded stones I see the angle created in the same stone block, it is carved, it is of considerable size, it is embedded in perfect alignment, it would be impossible to imagine (at least for me) not to have it in front.

I glance along the new section, and go ahead a bit; here the size of the stones is reduced, although they remain unequal, but equally fitted, perfect; compose a kind of  living space, with small doors and some openings that looks like small windows. With prudence, I try to see the interior through one of these skylights, but it is impossible by some ingenuity of construction. These facades are crossed by a sidewalk, at a height of about a meter with respect to the “street” – all this observed from a perspective, peculiar and strange, as much, as everything that surrounds me in this extraordinary circumstance. And my tension is continually on the rise.

Something new surprises me in the observation of the place: it is a small animal with thick hair and as freshly brushed, it looks like a baby, it reminds me of the llamas at the first glance, although I cannot recognize the species, I have never seen this breed, but it inspires me a lot of tenderness and I am attracted by the desire to caress it. The white and solitary camelid (when in this other reality I began to investigate the area and its fauna, I recognized him as a guanaco, or vicuña, or maybe an extinct sister breed (traveler reader, I do not intend to show you what I do not know, and my ignorance is shown in this fascinating way), wanders at the end of the sidewalk that widens and forms a kind of corner plaza, where different levels follow one another, through which it jumps from one to another, without appearing to disturb my presence. The scene seems to be made to please the eye; even the space occupied by the square seems to light up in the gloom. Another breath, in an incipient anguish caused by the solitude of my path. The tenderness that the little animal inspires makes me think of children.

<< What a beautiful place to be inhabited: but no human being appears around here. What is happening, or what… has happened here >>.

My emotions change from end to end and begin to mix enmeshing the value that had been put into play with the distrust that without any foundation is strengthening somewhere in my interior. The same perception of my state makes me recover strength, and I think that this despondency is nothing more than the fruit of insecurity and uncertainty that leaves fear approaching. More strengthened by the strength that positive thinking gives me, I continue my progress in search of some explanation, and of inhabitants, by accesses that the dark path puts in front of me, even with some anxiety, and absorbed by deep thoughts.

Suddenly I realize I’ve lost my way. I feel completely disoriented and I try to find a point of reference. I cannot even calculate the distance I’ve traveled while my thoughts revolved around myself. << I looked out of that kind of small square or patio, and now I am in this open shadow. May God help me on this path. I hope… not to be going back to the starting point >>.

I move hastily through the dark space, and return to approach another wall, the closest to the view; I edge it like a guide and advance without stopping at the encounter with an extravagant face of stone embedded in it, and then another at a short distance, and another, and another more, I go ahead without noticing if they are the same; I realize that I may be missing too many details. I stop before one of the intriguing and almost vivid images of stone with grotesque features. I look at one with attention. The expression on the carved face seems to convey a communication without words. I look at the previous one and the later one and I see that they are different, until I perceive the sensation that one is, screaming.

– What does it want to tell me?! In what world am I? Or this is a joke. A series continues of stony faces protruding from the wall that seem to speak … But it is absurd, I cannot ask the stone! What am I, entering a state of madness? -I feel in a ridiculous situation, impotent, I do not understand anything as much as this place seems to mean. Why only stone?! I need to find someone with whom I can understand myself, a person –in this moment, I forge the idea that faces listen to me, or … does ironic destiny introduce me into the same paradox? … To be, or not to be: so that I myself answer my own question. If I am, I have to find an answer. I already have the first answer! : Think, something that I like so much, and here, the situation presents a good philosophical exercise.

Ideas and thoughts rush; I let them flow, unimpeded, as if the acceleration allowed me to take better advantage of each moment. Everything is going very fast, but I continue with a safety slightly touched by the vacuum of uncertainty, and also, I consider the fact that I am living too many new things to be able to assimilate them, and without having obtained a single answer, and not a single recognizable signal that allow me to identify the place where I am.

An interior impression, like that of a call without a voice, attracts my gaze at this moment towards the upper part of the wall of the stone faces.

–I do not know what makes me follow this path of continual unknowns, but there must be a reason, and an answer!


I am amazed to see an extraordinary event. My exclamation has become vibrant waves, visible with small and broken silver undulations; they shine as they expand through a spacious enclosure.

I realize that I no longer know very well when I speak loudly and when words remain in my mind. I cherish this prodigy in my memory, another one among so many happening in this enigmatic transit that, little by little, I admit that it must correspond to me to cross although I do not know the purpose.

Mechanically, almost unconsciously, I rise to the top of the wall to look out. I see a higher level, it forms a spacious path bordered by another wall of huge stones. With decision I cross this open space until I reach the foot of the wall, I approach it instinctively, it serves as a reference and parapet. I advance a small section almost stuck to the wall, uneasy, and hardly notice the environment beset by my own thoughts born of insecurity that at times weakens or strengthens:

<< There is nobody here … or, could it be, that someone was watching me, from somewhere? >>.




Next chapter.


(And everything goes in crescendo… always… in crescendo.)


Copyright Todos los derechos reservados sobre este escrito María del Rosario Cordero Tesón-escrito-copyright ©®©® CROSS THE STRIPE copyright María del Rosario Cordero Tesón ©®©® All rights reserved about this writing

El Amor Es Eterno
diciembre 31, 2017


Vine por Amor,

Esta vez por mi Amor único,

Y él se convirtió así en impulsor

También para el amor sin mayúscula;

Y busqué la verdad

Y la encontré,

Y hasta Dios mismo ya me había dicho

Que él me ama

Desde siempre.

A pesar de los adversarios del amor

Y sus aberraciones,

El amor,

El Amor es eterno.



}}}}}}}}}}}}}}} María del Rosario Cordero Tesón ©® Copyrigh

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