Así lo celebré

septiembre 27, 2017 - Leave a Response

…hoy cumplo años, y podrían parecer bastantes,

mas cualquier edad es idónea para vivir el Amor,

el de verdad, el  Amor único,

el Amor que yo vine a encontrar aquí, en la Tierra

aunque me persiguiesen los monstruos oscuros sin cesar.

Con diecinueve renuncié al Cielo y empeñé la vida

para regresar, por él, por mi único y gran Amor.

Con los años… identifico y rechazo a desalmados

acercándose desbravados y aparentando ser mis amigos,

ya simplemente sigo un camino

tan solitario como casi… siempre ha sido.

Evito falsas amistades que se pegan como sanguijuelas

pero no puedo evitar, cada uno de mis pasos perseguido

a cambio, de un filete para tragar, digerir y cagar

y sustituir el corazón por un gran monedero.

No creo que sea posible matar el Amor,

el Amor de verdad, y mantengo la esperanza

de no poner un negro brazalete de duelo.

Dios no me dejó retornar sólo para vivir entre miserias

sin llegar a vivir el único y correspondido Amor verdadero.





THE DOOR. Cross the Stripe

septiembre 5, 2017 - Leave a Response




A deep sense of loneliness and nonsense takes over me, plunging me into the distressing emptiness.

But the blaze that keeps alive hope encourages me to search with my eyes for the meaning of my arrival in this arid place. In search of some sign of life, my eyes collide with a lonely and ruinous “house”, which is not really far from me.

The façade is modest in size, but looks strong, with a wide and dark central door, has the appearance of a “portentous house ramshackle”. I find it disturbing and very mysterious. I seek the security of my bubble, its protection, it is barely perceptible to the eye but it surrounds me and makes me feel protected in the middle of the inhospitable place.

My state of mind decays with the entrance to a kingdom of parched earth and next to a small “house” abandoned, and in ruins. << It is obscured … perhaps, by time … All the energy received during the journey was a nutrient, a food that I will surely need, and I am going to dose. I do not know what I can find on such a singular journey. I have just arrived and the panorama has already touched my spirits, what I am doing here and in front of this ruin?!! >>.

Between astonishment and bewilderment my mind turns in a maddening whirlwind that generates opposing sensations, I am invaded by a great curiosity and the desire to unravel a mystery in which I am perplexed, and suspicious. I feel the imperative need to make a decision; the light seems to decay and I am disturbed by the arrival of darkness in the midst of this desolation. I look at the sky in search of the sun: it seems to have still strength in its sunset, but a strange patina has just begun to envelop the environment, and this effect overwhelms me.

The situation requires overcoming me. Resolute, though cautious, I approach a prudent distance from the enigmatic “house.” I am nervous and afraid of the unknown, but determined to unravel the meaning of the surprising and incomprehensible encounter with this construction … and solitude.

Its dark green color is strange to me. From his appearance one can guess that an earthquake or infinity of inclemencies must have passed over this kind of “house”, with windows, nonexistent, and a door… without a door. I go a little closer to observe; for precaution, I leave the distance a few steps in half.

<< Are the windows covered with a block of stone? No… The window is carved, it’s one piece, a big block of stone! What does this mean? It’s a representation! And what is my role in such a strange setting? Why am I here?! Everything is unknown, but real; without dare me to touch it … assuming … that I could >>.

As I look through the door, from inside I receive a strange effect, the sensation makes all my movements paralyze: it is the sound of a murmur inside me, that gradually, it becomes a message with distorted and distant sonority.

—C-r-o-s-s – t-h-e – s-t-r-i-p-e…

I want to think that it is unreal, that it is a sound, inopportune, of my interior. I look at the bottom of the door; I can only see an empty half-darkness.

—But it’s not the inside of a house! On the other side of the door, it’s night…

With the nervousness of the intrigue I set out to inspect the back of the dark wall with carved windows. Quickly, shaken, and without getting too close to the imposing facade, I look out on one side. I think the bottom is too small to be a house, and, armed with courage, I go forward to see the back.

I find me with emptiness. –It’s not a house!

Instinctively I return to stand in front of the enigmatic Gate.

—It’s just like the Triumph Arc or the Alcala Gate, in small, but one piece! A great mass of stone! –a current of tension swirls inside me–. The darkness is only behind the door, open towards … no one knows where!

—Can it be another dimension? It’s night time in there! –I am impressed to observe her interior again without finding any explanation of the penumbra in the background, and I realize that I have been speaking in a loud voice.

By a foreboding and as if it were a warning that someone can hear me, I doubt the intention of that hypothetical spectator, and I regress by reflex reaction of the fright at a distance in which the frontal perspective of the house-shaped mole remains visible in its entirety.

Again the voice in my heart echoes.

—C–r–o –s –s –t–h–e –s –t –r –i–p–e —.  But its echo is more distant and broken.

—What stripe…? How can it be…? One side of the door, with sun, that seems to burn the earth and in the other, the gloom. Is this the stripe? The light … and … the darkness… <<I’ve heard that voice, I’m sure, and the sample is patent, my inside vibrated >>.


I could not stay there, I had to decide; my being was a sea in the middle of a storm, and fear began to touch me with its paw. I regained the temper with an exercise in meditation, self-convincing myself, not wanting to give more turns to why, than I had before me. I was there and it had to be for something. I would not let more questions disconcert my mood to a privilege ready to discover, and no fear would make me retreat.


I ask God to protect me, and without thinking more and decisively, I cross the door: when I pass through the doorway, an intense invisible and unknown force, throws me to the dark side, through an aquifer plane with gelatinous effect to the contact in a blue electric indigo.

I look back at a certain distance from the point where the inertia of such a strange push has left me. I put my attention on the stone mass, and on its threshold. The light stays on the other side, but something else attracts my curiosity; in the wall of this side, dark, I appreciate with difficulty by the distance in which I am and the penumbra, inscriptions and drawings.

I remain pensive and somewhat unrest. << It does not seem simple; I need to be closer to see the content. Neither do I dare to retreat to an enigma that becomes more distant and incomprehensible the closer I come! I do not know of the time that I will have to unravel this mystery; I am not even documented to decipher inscriptions! Here, I can do nothing. This border makes me feel scared … in an unprotected situation, I have to move fast: the answer might be deep inside the penumbra. I will engrave the image of this stone mass in my memory, it will be the main reference of the entrance to an unknown world … and dark >>.


I was conscious of leaving behind a complex document, an enigmatic stone mass possessing sculpted messages, inaccessible to my knowledge, a book written on the blunt stone with an open door between two dimensions. Impotent facing my ignorance, I walked away without a certain direction; I let myself be guided by intuition in the darkness.


Next Chapter: THE WAY



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

 ¡¡ …!! There will be no more chapters of Cross the Stripe, in these pages, I alone can not do so much work quickly, I need help translating the rest of my books and even this one, at least in English. For now I have to continue to complete in writing the history in Spanish, past, present and future, here by the Earth, for the knowledge of human beings: we urgently need the truth!!





agosto 19, 2017 - Leave a Response

A través de la vida he visto que muchos no quieren la verdad, y ya en este presente, deprimente saber que es la inmensa mayoría. La gente prefiere seguir esclava de violadores que arruinan su vida hasta terminar asesinada sin parecerlo. ¿…No es pavoroso…servir a tu verdugo?

Yo escribo sólo la realidad, experiencias propias crudas y hasta alguna cómica, realidad en la que interactúan directamente miles de personas de toda la Tierra, y también del Cielo, y Dios sabe, que yo sólo estoy aquí por amor; además… nadie puede matar la verdad y el amor, la verdad ha de ser para el que la quiere o el que la oculta, incluidos, los adversarios del amor. Todo está interconectado, nada es por casualidad, todos intervenimos en una misma historia, la historia de la Tierra. Sobreviví y al fin conseguí  ver toda la verdad, si algo fundamental me falta… de nuevo ha de llegar otra señal Celestial, quizás, no para mí sola.


…fui avisada

agosto 7, 2017 - Leave a Response

No esperaba que alguien me ayudase… ya fui avisada en el Cielo…después de enterrar a un papa y antes de ser asesinado el siguiente; pero yo no iba a dejar de intentarlo, el amor tenía que estar en algún lugar de la Tierra… aunque sólo el Amor, me ayudaría. Y aunque el acoso de los adversarios del amor tampoco cesa, Dios quiere la verdad y amor en la Tierra



julio 2, 2017 - Leave a Response

 There will be no more installments of the book, CROSS THE STRIPE. When the entire narrative is translated into English, I will publish it on Amazon, unless a more efficient launch pad appears before. Anyway, you can already read in Spanish. All my books have popular prices, and full of content, real history, our own history of past and present, and everything is connected. Nothing is by chance.

CROSS THE STRIPE Installment 2

junio 27, 2017 - Leave a Response


To my two sons



The dream is the small door hidden in the deepest and most intimate sanctuary of the soul. Carl Jung

Man finds God behind every door that science manages to open.

Albert Einstein. ?






Without an understandable reason to get out of their lethargy at that moment, the sequences were reproducing in my mind, images bursting like spurts, events of a remote time, until setting up a crucial history of our world confined to the oblivion and hidden under the ruins.

The vision, asleep in my unconscious for some years, had just awakened.

It had to be real. It had to exist somewhere, and that location could only be in America, in the south. More than a certainty it was a hunch.

The next day I ran to the library for information and response. I looked for ancient history, myths, maps, names; I was looking for ‘Viracocha’, the name that showed itself alive in my memory, and that of a place that started to sound in my mind this same day as if they were vocalizing it, without stopping repeating it … or I was repeating it for not to forget it again, and not knowing how it settled in my head, or if I had ever heard it before.

I would soon find the name and place, located on maps and history. And photographs: There was the door that I entered, visible in our days, in one of them surrounded by chains, in another surrounded with barbed wire: I watched them wondering if that had been put by a defender…

My vision was confirmed. It existed!

After a period of research and another long period with deep reflections, I decided to take this testimony to light; connecting the vibrations of the subtle threads of truth and dreams.

But all that happened in the end.


I have to tell this fragment of the great history of humanity from the beginning, as I found it, with all the details that my retentive was able to accumulate. And I should also end by remembering why he stayed in my oblivion for several years, or at least one of the causes, everything is relative and sometimes invisible factors intervene, but nothing is by chance, and everything comes to decrypt, with the help of the meditation, generator of alchemy.






In the remotest times, already forgotten by the inhabitants of this world and in a settlement inhabited perhaps by many of us, what I am going to tell happened; to remember what lived by humanity, by ourselves. This means that we forget our own cosmic trajectory, our baggage, our endless existence. But it dwells in our unconscious, where we must call and ask: after a previous meditation on the consultation. You have to know how to ask.

You have taken a message in your hands that already belonged to you by right. Yes, to you, reader. Now we will travel together to that fascinating past, where you may have been and only remind you of something lived; those worlds that seem far from each other; which are present around us and to which we belong.

Do not be afraid to fly, the flight has been initiated, you are already on the road, for a world that revolves around itself and around the star that gives us the heat, at such a speed that only trying to imagine dizzy and not even find out of the movement. Rise upon your heavy burden, and that your heart guide the helm in the journey that will enrich the knowledge of yourself, by a path leading to an open door to the understanding of the world in which we are. Enter into (or create, is an innate quality in each) a bubble, iridescent, personal and non-transferable, and accompany me. Let yourself  be led by the impulse of knowledge and its rhythms harmonious and attractive, sinuous, sometimes oscillating, others vertiginous, but revealing the accumulated knowledge of an ancient and timeless, cosmic and divine science, ready to meet us with it.



Inside a bubble I move over the ocean. I feel completely protected inside and offer me the certainty that nothing can harm me. I go through the darkness of a night that shows the outline of the earth touching the sea, I think it can, and should be, the Atlantic; I look back in search of my place of departure, but it already looks distant; I clearly distinguish the Iberian peninsula linked to the continent in which it starts from my point of view: Europe.

I turn my gaze back to the path of attraction of a magnetism that I sense distant; then, diligently, I look towards the sea, in the background. With intrigue and excited I see through the water. Shadows are distinguished. I focus the view driven by the curiosity, and at the same time, my flight descends, I do not know why, it seems to help me perceive the observation (I am aware of being in an altered state of perception), it is as if I illuminate the zone myself. I see walls formed with blocks that could be quite large. In the appreciation that I can make from my height of aerial navigation they look perfectly tidy: they form great walls that are seen in the calm sea bottom. No doubt they must be the remains of some great civilization. It reminds me of Atlantis. As part of the road I leave it behind, but I keep my attention at the bottom of the sea; in many of the stretches, there does not seem to be much depth, sea ridges follow each other, I appreciate, surprised, that would not have to lower the water too much to be able to cross long paths.

I let myself go and enjoy the pleasant sensation of watching the medium of travel: it is like going inside a soap bubble that shines with the colors of the spectrum and moves between the sky and the sea, very quickly! I feel completely protected inside; a special security in me invades me as the comfortable and silent ship advances, allowing me to see, without a single blind spot, a spectacular panorama before me, on an improvised trip; as a surprise gift. I wonder where it will take me. At the moment, the singular ship ascends of altitude. “It seems … that my journey will be long …”

I focus my attention on the front as if I were the driver. Then I look at the mantle of stars that I like so much to contemplate, I think they would serve as a guiding map if I knew the constellations. I do not let myself be discouraged by my lack of knowledge and I look in the background, rather, at the surface on which I glide, the world I identify, of which I am part and familiar with its geography, the closest to me and recognizable to be able to determine the “road”, although I only see the sea, on which I address, it is not known where.

I look for the moon, I think it will serve as a reference to place me in time and space, but I do not even know what stage it is tonight; (I reject the stalking of frustration) I look back, in the most northeastern part; a bright light appears on the horizon, the star seems to still have time to reach it. It occurs to me to think of the country of the rising sun. << Whether it is solar or lunar light, there, the glow will reach it >>.

The speed increases, a lot of speed! I lift my eyes to the sky and see how it turns into a myriad of tiny tail, but it does not affect the inside of my bubble: it seems static.


To explain how the interior of this bubble is considered accessory, even as a superficial act; by my own judgment, could have as much as I could have needed: at the slightest thought, everything appeared as a work of enchantment before my eyes, and much more, to the point of feeling me overwhelmed. The appearance of the design was futuristic and fantastic, with harmonious white minimalist shapes, surpassed (and surpasses today) the most avant-garde and imaginative designs, with “technology” to somehow describe what was before me, prodigious, unimaginable and advanced, never seen in prototypes or science fiction.


I prefer not to be dazzled by such a prodigy or rejoice in the way of traveling – the most comfortable that I have ever known and heard – my interest is focused on knowing the purpose of my trip.

I look straight ahead. In the distance I see a horizon of earth, a huge line extends. It seems to be the direction to go. I do not direct the course nor know the destiny; I simply let myself be admired by the incredible experience, with a certainty: that of being driven by some plan of inherent transcendence. I can feel the exciting sensation of the extraordinary!

I approach with incredible speed towards the extensive surface; although now, the speed has been reduced. I am already quite close to the great mass of land, and I begin to see a group of small islands not far from its coast. The height in which I find myself does not allow me to distinguish its dimensions, but they do not seem to be large, I can see a few points near what it suggests to me to think that it is a continent; as I get closer, they appear of different sizes, some very small next to more extensive ones; Form a small group surrounded by an intense greenish light, projected from its seabed, is a luminous space of perfectly defined circular outline. This “phosphorescent light”, to name it in some way that resembles something known, is a light that I have never seen and to describe it is impossible; yes I can outline the effect it provokes on me: I am fascinated with it at the same time that it transmits a renewing energy, very intense, it strengthens me and strengthens the positive feeling. “That background contains something indecipherable … that I cannot imagine.”


When this trip occurred, a few years later the laser would be known in a visible way to ordinary mortals, perhaps this light would be the most appropriate comparison, but only for its intensity, because it was not projected in any concrete direction; and it is clear, my delay in launching outside the legacy that eventually determined it was not my exclusive property, it weighs me, although there will surely be a reason, and still unknown by me.


The route is very mysterious: an energy zone, some unknown civilization sunk in the sea … << This is very interesting >>, (I say to myself). It is also educational, to the point of showing me my own limitations in knowledge that I would like to have: such as knowing a little of the firmament, knowing geography with more depth, history … and so many other subjects in which I would like to be enlightened and my notion is superficial.

Suddenly I am drawn to my left by an intense force, surprising, uncontrollable, and it takes me to a vertiginous speed. I make sure to continue inside the bubble. I do a visual tour without experiencing any feeling of restlessness: everything continues without apparent alterations. I settle down again, and feel an extraordinary well-being, apart from being entertained by so many wonders around me.

I begin to perceive, when breathing, a dense atmosphere; I feel as if in my ethereal being something almost “solid” enters, as if it were a food, a special air that penetrates through the breath and infuses me a pleasant state: a sublime peace. While I assimilate the situation without difficulty, my protective ship continues to advance. And also, I remember that this entire energy gathering usually happens in the “other reality”. When I enter phases of full state, without delay, often occur unpleasant events of strong emotional impact in my life, and all that positive recharge is spent until I remain just a particle in overcoming the experiences suffered. << All this stockpiling of energy reserves has to be the announcement of something that will need an extra effort. But I do not have to suffer a difficult situation before I have reached it. This idyllic journey is just a clear beginning of what can be: answers, to some of my many questions >>. I think it with deep conviction. I let myself be entrusted between so much divine and protective gift.

The speed is reduced, almost instantaneously, and becomes a relaxed ride through the air. The exterior light intensifies; it acquires a dye of twilight light.

I have descended a lot of altitude, I am approaching the Earth, and I am in it, over flight a landscape of soft mountains that are smoothed gradually. And at this moment, I approach the surface until I recklessly scratch the undulations of the ground, almost as if I slipped on them; enthusiastic, I enjoy the progressive acceleration of the march, but it goes to the extreme, even to fear a shock by a minimum measurement failure. I begin to doubt, if at this moment I myself am directing this or it is a force alien to me.

Surprisingly, the pace of speed is reduced … and that of emotion.

Again and suddenly, as if they had given me a powerful pull this time to my right, a jolt inside me in the vast territory.

I could not see anything, just like a movie reproduced at breakneck speed where the only thing that stands out are stripes and shadows. Moved by an almost instantaneous and at the same time disorienting procedure that has left me on a barren and arid ground, I find myself in a solitary wasteland where the blizzard strikes a few blades of dry grass, in a wasteland, a desolate and even painful landscape ; In the middle of nowhere…





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


junio 26, 2017 - Leave a Response

Good Morning. Today, June 26, 2017, I begin to hang by installments my first published book: CRUZA LA RAYA, so that the whole world may have knowledge of its distant past, and thus, understand our present, and fulfill the purpose for which it was written. CROSS THE STRIPE. It will be in English, and as I translate it myself. You can all suggest corrections, or comment on our own history; In Spanish or English, and you are in the band of victims or aggressors.


Buenos días. Hoy, 26 de junio de 2017, empiezo a colgar por entregas mi primer libro publicado: CRUZA LA RAYA, para que todo el mundo tenga conocimiento de su pasado, lejano, y así, entender nuestro presente, y cumpla la finalidad para cual fue escrito. CROSS THE STRIPE. Será en inglés y según yo misma vaya traduciendo. Todos podéis sugerir correcciones, o hacer comentarios sobre nuestra propia historia; en español o en inglés y estéis en el bando de víctimas o de agresores.

Installment 1:


María del Rosario Cordero Tesón


Book description

CROSS THE STRIPE, is the testimony of a part of the history of this world, veiled, with a tragic outcome, although it is only the continuation of other previous dramatic events that have marked the journey to our time, and causing the disorientation that plagues the beings of the Earth that we have all inhabited, for thousands of years.

To cross the stripe means to connect with the inner world, with dreams, with all the sciences, with the conscience, with the ingenuity always in search of knowledge, with our personal microcosm, with the world, and with the whole. Already almost expressed in the title, to cross the stripe is to dare to know the reality, the space-time dimension, the past the present and future, to know oneself, the own history lived in this world, as I myself do in this personal journey in search of answers, by a road in which the stone only lack to scream; the sound of the voice itself has color and form, and the mind through the spirit, moves blocks of tons of weight. It is a solitary journey and full of enigmas until arriving to meet with sages who instruct the human beings to live in peace, without using the brute force; They plan, and build with their followers structures where all the pieces form a single edification, and they work the stone masterfully with all the universal sciences, for the new race, the beings of our time: for us.

The past and the future are mixed and at the same time they are defined in this history that evidences other dimensions and suggests a reconsideration, because our present would not exist without our past, and that past that presents the history was carved in stone, as transmitter of knowledge for the humans of our time, and today, we can see the ruins of the site that describes the story, in Tiahuanaco, where events occur, 17,000 years ago. There is exposed the truth still visible despite the immense damage suffered. But we must also look at these works with the eyes of the heart, as the life itself, to understand the depth of its meaning.

And we must now complete the story by discovering the meaning of the masterly constructions set up all over the earth, with the truth that the spiritual sages left in them to awaken in us the knowledge of ancestral and cosmic science. Although the destroyers still continue to tarnish with lies those works that they could not eliminate, and in many cases, usurp the authorship of these unequaled buildings with unsustainable arguments.

Cross the line, it is a story of reality with a background full of love and hope, without a single phrase of fiction.

God knows that love has a vicious and ruthless rival, and that love will be the only ultimate winner in the long and dramatic history of planet Earth.


Table of Contents

CROSS THE STRIPE ______________________

Book Description ____________________ 5

Dedication ___________________________ 7

Quotes ________________________________ 8

SPACE-TIME AND DREAM ____________ 9


THE JOURNEY ____________________________ 12

THE DOOR __________________________ 17

THE ROAD __________________________ 22

THE STAIRCASE ________________________ 26

THE GREAT MOUND _________________ 30

THE WISE ____________________________ 38

THOUSAND NAMES _______________________ 43

SHIRLEY’S TESTIMONY ___________ 50




Notes ________________________________ 85

Added note for this publication on Amazon___ 86

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

Dios mío… he perdonado

junio 24, 2017 - Leave a Response

Subject                Dios mío… he perdonado

DateCreated     7/20/2011 1:52:00 PM

PostedDate       7/20/2011 4:52:00 AM

Body     (documento de mi antiguo blog, devuelto)



Dios mío… he perdonado, y ves los errores

en los entresijos de mi ingenuidad

y cómo he dado mi vida para encontrar amor

fraternal y el Amor: a mi otra mitad,

mientras en soledad buscaba un hueco para respirar.

Me diste un hijo para soportar la andadura

por un desierto cercado de chacales y hienas

Dios mío… dije… perdonaría incluso a enemigos

y acepte todo… por encontrar amor en la Tierra,

di el perdón a quien pidió y para algunos

dos …y más, con mi fe en la amistad

a otros sin pedir se marcharon altivos

Dios mío… y aún sin la certeza de recordar

a todos los que nombraste, ya perdoné

a conocidos y aquellos entonces olvidados,

y la evocación… indudable, una vida, una madre…

y me pregunté porqué a David también.

Y aquel nombre, enigmático… Dios mío

con mi amor por su voz dejó velada en la memoria

la revelación tenebrosa con once años recibida…

Perdoné a los que volvieron tras arrollarlos un tren

y a los que se fueron jóvenes,

el compañero que me regaló su sombrero

y al primer novio… me nombró hasta su último aliento.

…ahora… he recordado aquel nombre: Michael… Miguel…

constante presencia, siguió mis pasos tres décadas,

elegidos los destinos… él me advirtió …¡amenazada!

Perdoné, sigue siendo una luz… reescribió la canción: This Is It.

Creo que nunca vio el cerco que ya me acechaba,

la codicia de perversos como esos que estaban tras él

y en medio de mi intento por olvidar el dolor

los desalmados dañaban mi mente y mi corazón

con impactos programados y venenos ¡son la misma banda!

Dios mío… llegó otro hijo y confirmó mi amor de madre

aunque seguí culpandome

por no lograr para ellos una vida mejor…

sólo pensar en Jesús aliviaba el sufrimiento

además de fortalecer mi autoestima

y de nuevo volví a creer que yo mecía el amor.

Dios mío, al recordar parte de esta revelación,

con libre voluntad de manifestar

no me dolió el deber de perdonar

al hombre que encarna a mi Amor

y que escasas veces vería…

apenas algo más que instantes

en las dos primeras etapas de mi vida.

Cumplí cincuenta con luna llena

y aún mi mente enferma

lentamente regresaba la lucidez a ella

Dios mío… escuchaste mi plegaria incesante

luego, dispuesto apareció el Amor frente a mí

y sé que su corazón y el mío surcan el mismo camino,

en mi mente ya clara distingo lo sucedido

con nuestras vidas y nuestro amor. Dios mío…

¿debo esperar a que los enemigos del amor pidan perdón?

con mi vida inhumana en este planeta

Dios… ya no sé si cabe más dolor.

Aquellas veces que lo vi… como una ráfaga

arrastraba tras él una parte de mí…

él es mi otra mitad, siempre lo sentí así

Dios… ¿es ya el tiempo en la Tierra de ver la forma del amor?



Mª del Rosario Cordero Tesón ©® todos los derechos reservados copyright ©® all rights reserved

Bosnian Pyramids – New Evidence 2010

mayo 28, 2017 - Leave a Response

Memorias en el Paraíso perdido

Follow The Money


quite amazing where these pyramids show up..basically worldwide..not just egypt..and what does all that mean?


Ver la entrada original

The mysterious straight line that unites seven shrines dedicated to St Michael

mayo 22, 2017 - Leave a Response

La historia contemporánea sigue escribiéndose, gracias a Dios, no sólo por los mentirosos, violadores y asesinos aparentando ser víctimas, aunque triunfadores mientras pisan la sangre…

Follow The Money


thanks to joelH for the link..

love this stuff..this is a did they know and how did they do it and why does it point to israel?

is the irish starting point significant?


Ver la entrada original

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