<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406</id><updated>2012-02-17T03:23:26.583Z</updated><title type='text'>Deixando a poesia fluir...</title><subtitle type='html'>Queria ter tantos sorrisos para mostrar a todos e a tudo, de forma tão transparente quanto a minha alma. Mas quando ela está vazia, nem os sorrisos são transparentes. É como as letras do meu coração, que só têm sentido se invocadas pelo meu Pai.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>275</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-572370558803078115</id><published>2008-02-04T17:06:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-02-04T17:07:00.045Z</updated><title type='text'>Mudança definitiva... pedromiguel.wordpress.com</title><content type='html'>Agora em http://pedromiguel.wordpress.com&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-572370558803078115?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://pedromiguel.wordpress.com' title='Mudança definitiva... pedromiguel.wordpress.com'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/572370558803078115/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=572370558803078115&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/572370558803078115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/572370558803078115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2008/02/mudana-definitiva-pedromiguelwordpressc.html' title='Mudança definitiva... pedromiguel.wordpress.com'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-6771211639034262066</id><published>2008-01-05T17:26:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-01-05T17:26:19.325Z</updated><title type='text'>Na minha...</title><content type='html'>Senhor,&lt;br /&gt;Na minha iniquidade&lt;br /&gt;Vale a Tua misericórdia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Senhor,&lt;br /&gt;Na minha egolatria&lt;br /&gt;Vale a tua humildade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Senhor,&lt;br /&gt;Na minha pequenez&lt;br /&gt;Vale a tua mão auxiliadora.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Senhor,&lt;br /&gt;Na minha tristeza&lt;br /&gt;Vale a alegria da oração.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Senhor,&lt;br /&gt;Na minha desconfiança&lt;br /&gt;Vale a serenidade da alma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Senhor,&lt;br /&gt;Na minha avareza&lt;br /&gt;Vale despir-me de mim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Senhor,&lt;br /&gt;No meu apego&lt;br /&gt;Vale despojar-me de tudo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Senhor,&lt;br /&gt;No meu desejo&lt;br /&gt;Vale revestir-me de Amor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tu vales sempre: ontem, hoje e amanhã.&lt;br /&gt;Pai de bondade e amor, &lt;br /&gt;Para com o mundo e para com todos.&lt;br /&gt;Te dou graças. Ámen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: right; font-size: 8px"&gt;Blogged with &lt;a href="http://www.flock.com/blogged-with-flock" title="Flock" target="_new"&gt;Flock&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-6771211639034262066?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/6771211639034262066/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=6771211639034262066&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/6771211639034262066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/6771211639034262066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2008/01/na-minha.html' title='Na minha...'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-6425420481900204839</id><published>2007-11-05T16:03:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-12-12T23:36:11.540Z</updated><title type='text'>Oração ao Pai-Rosto</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_24NNo7mGfP0/Ry8_wE6cwZI/AAAAAAAAAAs/lZsODGKpW5A/s1600-h/O+bom+samaritano.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_24NNo7mGfP0/Ry8_wE6cwZI/AAAAAAAAAAs/lZsODGKpW5A/s320/O+bom+samaritano.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129388595783451026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Senhor,&lt;br /&gt;Quando o meu querer&lt;br /&gt;Em Ti não se transformar,&lt;br /&gt;Quando o meu ouvir&lt;br /&gt;Em Ti não se escutar,&lt;br /&gt;Quando o meu viver&lt;br /&gt;Em Ti nada seja presente,&lt;br /&gt;Quando o meu olhar&lt;br /&gt;Em ti nada tenha,&lt;br /&gt;Quando o meu rezar&lt;br /&gt;Em Ti não se expressar,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que caia a lágrima da conversão&lt;br /&gt;Sobre mim e me faça caminhar&lt;br /&gt;Até Ti, para Ti e Contigo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que te reconheça sempre como meu Pai,&lt;br /&gt;De quem o Amor nasceu e vive;&lt;br /&gt;E pela vida me oferecestes ao mundo&lt;br /&gt;Para ser sinal da confiança,&lt;br /&gt;da esperança e do Amor!&lt;br /&gt;Que só de Ti tem sentido!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(11 Outubro 07)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-6425420481900204839?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/6425420481900204839/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=6425420481900204839&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/6425420481900204839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/6425420481900204839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2007/11/orao-ao-pai-rosto.html' title='Oração ao Pai-Rosto'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_24NNo7mGfP0/Ry8_wE6cwZI/AAAAAAAAAAs/lZsODGKpW5A/s72-c/O+bom+samaritano.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-3461037083719741595</id><published>2007-11-05T15:59:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-12T23:36:11.743Z</updated><title type='text'>Oração de Gratidão</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_24NNo7mGfP0/Ry8-oU6cwYI/AAAAAAAAAAk/C7q-yy-oJCg/s1600-h/O+amigo+que+insiste.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_24NNo7mGfP0/Ry8-oU6cwYI/AAAAAAAAAAk/C7q-yy-oJCg/s320/O+amigo+que+insiste.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129387363127837058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Senhor,&lt;br /&gt;Que no meu refúgio me amparas&lt;br /&gt;E no meu sofrimento mostras o teu Amor,&lt;br /&gt;Incrementa cada vez mais&lt;br /&gt;Em mim o doce fogo do teu Espírito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Louvo-Te Senhor&lt;br /&gt;Pelo dom do Serviço aos outros&lt;br /&gt;Que se manifesta&lt;br /&gt;Pelas minhas mãos&lt;br /&gt;E no fundo do meu coração.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-3461037083719741595?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/3461037083719741595/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=3461037083719741595&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/3461037083719741595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/3461037083719741595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2007/11/orao-de-gratido.html' title='Oração de Gratidão'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_24NNo7mGfP0/Ry8-oU6cwYI/AAAAAAAAAAk/C7q-yy-oJCg/s72-c/O+amigo+que+insiste.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-5971650411010391226</id><published>2007-11-05T15:43:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-12T23:36:12.022Z</updated><title type='text'>Mãos vazias</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_24NNo7mGfP0/Ry89MU6cwXI/AAAAAAAAAAc/Zj0dgZiRE3c/s1600-h/A+tempestade.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_24NNo7mGfP0/Ry89MU6cwXI/AAAAAAAAAAc/Zj0dgZiRE3c/s320/A+tempestade.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129385782579872114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não há tempo que negue&lt;br /&gt;Quantas vezes perdi&lt;br /&gt;O sentido da minha Fé!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não há tempo que negue&lt;br /&gt;Quantas vezes me senti aniquilado&lt;br /&gt;Por não dar resposta aos teus sinais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não há tempo que negue&lt;br /&gt;Quantas vezes viajei&lt;br /&gt;Sem pensar realmente em Ti!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não há tempo que negue&lt;br /&gt;Quantas vezes menti ao meu coração&lt;br /&gt;Para esconder-me da vergonha que tinha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foram tempos de mãos vazias,&lt;br /&gt;Foram tempos sem dor e amor,&lt;br /&gt;Foram tempos sem alegrias,&lt;br /&gt;Foram tempos esquecidos de louvor!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não há tempo que negue&lt;br /&gt;Quantas vezes quis&lt;br /&gt;Perder-me noutros mundos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não há tempo que negue&lt;br /&gt;Quantas vezes me mutilei&lt;br /&gt;De forma egoísta e presunçosa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não há tempo que negue&lt;br /&gt;Quantas vezes caí&lt;br /&gt;No abismo e solidão, na carência e desespero!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Só Tu, com o sinal da Unção&lt;br /&gt;Vais agora ungindo o meu coração&lt;br /&gt;Colocando sobre as minhas mãos&lt;br /&gt;A dádiva da tua compaixão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-5971650411010391226?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/5971650411010391226/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=5971650411010391226&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/5971650411010391226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/5971650411010391226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2007/11/mos-vazias.html' title='Mãos vazias'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_24NNo7mGfP0/Ry89MU6cwXI/AAAAAAAAAAc/Zj0dgZiRE3c/s72-c/A+tempestade.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-8072162407177692500</id><published>2007-09-01T14:48:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-01T14:48:54.628+01:00</updated><title type='text'>“Inabalável Amor a Deus”</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que tempestades podem abalar&lt;br /&gt;O tão profundo e sublime&lt;br /&gt;Amor a Deus?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que horizontes nos refugiam&lt;br /&gt;Para sermos cacos desunidos&lt;br /&gt;Na compaixão a Deus?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que remos podem conduzir&lt;br /&gt;À maré e sentido&lt;br /&gt;De quem ama?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que guerras e lutas infindáveis&lt;br /&gt;Se nada se enche de Amor&lt;br /&gt;À pura cruz de Cristo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que buscas no caminho&lt;br /&gt;Onde as pedras doem e são&lt;br /&gt;Semelhantes aos pregos cravados?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que Amor tão forte e belo&lt;br /&gt;Tão triste e enternecido&lt;br /&gt;A quem tudo devemos!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-8072162407177692500?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/8072162407177692500/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=8072162407177692500&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/8072162407177692500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/8072162407177692500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2007/09/inabalvel-amor-deus.html' title='“Inabalável Amor a Deus”'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-8312092939788569437</id><published>2007-09-01T14:47:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-01T14:48:21.869+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Os sentimentos na responsabilidade!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haveria muito por onde começar. O que ouço, leio e vejo? Talvez seja pouco, mas gostaria de partilhar estes sentimentos que nos tocam quando o objectivo é ser responsável. No dia-a-dia enfrentamos e lidamos com situações de “bradar aos céus”, não estamos imunes a elas, mas custa aceitar que a maturidade não reflicta a responsabilidade, ou será que a responsabilidade não está relacionada com a maturidade? Gostaria de acreditar que elas caminhavam juntas, e ainda acredito que sim. Tenho aprendido que por mais que muitos se esforcem para provar que no meio disto tudo está a mãozinha de Deus, deixamos de dedicar o nosso ser a um serviço simples, e essa simplicidade surge na responsabilidade: o dar, estar, presenciar, acolher, viver, ser, querer, apreender, cumprir, correr, saltar e sobretudo amar.  Quando estamos zangados, alegres, tristes, até doentes… saem de nós muitos sentimentos (“sinto-me…”), mas quando agimos de forma responsável que sentimento terá. Será a responsabilidade um sentimento? Mais do que uma descrição, é uma reflexão onde se vê na responsabilidade uma forma de dar resposta a tudo que se pensa, se articula e concretiza, e de forma edificativa manifestar o amor aos e pelos outros; partindo daqui alcançaremos a máxima de Deus: “Amai-vos uns aos outros como eu vos Amei!”.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-8312092939788569437?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/8312092939788569437/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=8312092939788569437&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/8312092939788569437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/8312092939788569437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2007/09/os-sentimentos-na-responsabilidade.html' title='Os sentimentos na responsabilidade!'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-5558741040161645316</id><published>2007-09-01T14:46:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-01T14:46:41.653+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Uma mente sedenta</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Uma mente sedenta&lt;br /&gt;Dos cheiros das flores&lt;br /&gt;Quem semeia rebenta&lt;br /&gt;O pólen dos amores&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uma paz reluzente&lt;br /&gt;Sem medos, sonhar&lt;br /&gt;Quem sofre, mente&lt;br /&gt;Cem quereres, ocultar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Há margens, marcas e imagens&lt;br /&gt;Em segredos viajares&lt;br /&gt;Por selos e rótulos, água do mar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Há pedaços secretos, cheiros amar&lt;br /&gt;Sem forças fracas&lt;br /&gt;Por quedas de rios, querer olhar!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-5558741040161645316?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/5558741040161645316/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=5558741040161645316&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/5558741040161645316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/5558741040161645316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2007/09/uma-mente-sedenta.html' title='Uma mente sedenta'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-1950497415436930330</id><published>2007-09-01T14:45:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-01T14:46:11.166+01:00</updated><title type='text'>miragens</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Nas miragens do deserto&lt;br /&gt;Encontrei alguém&lt;br /&gt;E bem longe, era certo,&lt;br /&gt;Sentado além.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu queria, estava perto&lt;br /&gt;Ali, o notei.&lt;br /&gt;Não era concreto,&lt;br /&gt;Mas procurando&lt;br /&gt;Vi o seu sinal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O sinal de Deus aqui,&lt;br /&gt;O sinal de Deus em ti,&lt;br /&gt;Acorda, desperta…&lt;br /&gt;e deixa o teu coração,&lt;br /&gt;dando-Lhe a mão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-1950497415436930330?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/1950497415436930330/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=1950497415436930330&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/1950497415436930330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/1950497415436930330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2007/09/miragens.html' title='miragens'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-235148216873235815</id><published>2007-09-01T14:44:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-01T14:45:40.046+01:00</updated><title type='text'>No Senhor</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;No Senhor eu encontrei&lt;br /&gt;Algo mais do que eu sou&lt;br /&gt;Eu o vi, mas não o achei,&lt;br /&gt;Em mim o seu olhar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ao Senhor, ao Senhor&lt;br /&gt;Eu aqui estou&lt;br /&gt;Dá-me força,&lt;br /&gt;Dá-me, dá-me…&lt;br /&gt;Eu quero ser só Teu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Com Jesus eu caminhei&lt;br /&gt;Sentia o que não via&lt;br /&gt;Eu o escutei, mas não percebia&lt;br /&gt;Em mim o seu amor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Em Cristo eu amei&lt;br /&gt;Sofri pelo que não pensava&lt;br /&gt;Acompanhei-O, mas não temia&lt;br /&gt;Em mim a sua dor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-235148216873235815?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/235148216873235815/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=235148216873235815&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/235148216873235815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/235148216873235815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2007/09/no-senhor.html' title='No Senhor'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-1155506839934389825</id><published>2007-09-01T14:42:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-01T14:44:39.012+01:00</updated><title type='text'>notas de um caminho...</title><content type='html'>α          Um dos grandes problemas/beneficios do ser humano é não exprimir tudo o que tem de mais doloroso na sua vida a qualquer pessoa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;α          Se o Homem julga saber de tudo, engana-se quem pensa não saber nada.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-1155506839934389825?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/1155506839934389825/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=1155506839934389825&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/1155506839934389825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/1155506839934389825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2007/09/notas-de-um-caminho.html' title='notas de um caminho...'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-3441767655982058701</id><published>2007-09-01T14:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-01T14:42:04.849+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Compaixão</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Os significados sobre os sentidos e expressões que resultam das nossas acções são o manifesto de razões irracionais do corpo. Fácil é mostrar o corpo, o seu agir, mas difícil é demonstrar o que se sente por dentro, o que é de mais profundo do coração e sua paixão. O conhecimento de nós próprios ajuda-nos a perceber que o meio de alcançar a sensibilidade da dádiva pelo sofrimento só é possível pela compaixão. Não é uma compaixão que magoa, e que nos faz chorar por meio de algemas; sendo impossível de lidar com ela, torna-se um suplício para toda a vida.&lt;br /&gt;A forma de alcançar essa viagem magnífica até Deus compassivo é a existência do ser humano compassivo, que pela compaixão tem a virtude de discernir, de ver a medida certa e distinguir o que é bem e mal. Mais importante é estar ligado a Deus misericordioso, que nos faz perceber que por Cristo a paixão ganhou outro sentido. Um sentido de promessa e de rigor, louvando ao saudável amor que se vivifica na presença divina e terrena – o eco-espiritual.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-3441767655982058701?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/3441767655982058701/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=3441767655982058701&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/3441767655982058701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/3441767655982058701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2007/09/compaixo.html' title='Compaixão'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-3069762408566949055</id><published>2007-07-27T11:18:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-07-27T11:20:35.692+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Crescer</title><content type='html'>Crescer para viver, sem querer morrer&lt;br /&gt;Sem medo esperar, algo mais e Deus ter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crescer para sonhar, sem querer sofrer&lt;br /&gt;Sem receio de mudar, algo mais e Deus ser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crescer para perder, sem querer chorar&lt;br /&gt;Sem fogo de semear, algo mais e Deus ver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crescer para acordar, sem querer cair&lt;br /&gt;Sem pedaço final, algo mais e Deus dizer!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-3069762408566949055?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/3069762408566949055/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=3069762408566949055&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/3069762408566949055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/3069762408566949055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2007/07/crescer.html' title='Crescer'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-6332225793121269955</id><published>2007-03-20T18:20:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-03-20T18:21:24.805Z</updated><title type='text'>O tempo que afoga</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt; O tempo que afoga&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O tempo que afoga os minutos&lt;br /&gt;Faz decrescer o segundos,&lt;br /&gt;E em tudo rema aos excertos ,&lt;br /&gt;Pedaços não pouco perdoados.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O tempo que afoga os segundos&lt;br /&gt;Nos instantes sem medo.&lt;br /&gt;Saber quem no segredo&lt;br /&gt;Conta para além dos dedos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O tempo que afoga as horas&lt;br /&gt;Não acalma nem distorce&lt;br /&gt;Tempestades fora, ou bonanças&lt;br /&gt;Aparentes, cortes de uma foice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O tempo que derrama tempo&lt;br /&gt;Não é mais que o tempo&lt;br /&gt;Que foge ao seu próprio tempo&lt;br /&gt;De sentir e viver o momento.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-6332225793121269955?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/6332225793121269955/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=6332225793121269955&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/6332225793121269955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/6332225793121269955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2007/03/o-tempo-que-afoga.html' title='O tempo que afoga'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-7315295279176532939</id><published>2007-02-21T21:04:00.001Z</published><updated>2007-02-21T21:04:53.847Z</updated><title type='text'>o sabor da chuva</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Ontem choveu bem... Luanda se enchia de água nas ruas e demais buracos que existissem.&lt;br/&gt; Eu saboreei a água, a sua queda e a sua força. Apesar de preocupado, sabia-me bem. &lt;br/&gt; As ruas iam se enchendo de lagoas com leves ondas. De vez em quando, lá ia um pezito para um banho.  À noite, aqui na Paróquia, foi uma grande festa... sabem para quem? para os meninos de risco que por aqui perto moram. A alegria deles era imensa... aproveitavam todos os locais de queda de água, tubagens, para sentirem o peso das cascatas pequenas... Saltavam, pulavam, brincavam, e aproveitavam para ter um banho bem fresco.  O pátio da casa, coberto por um manto de água, serviu de campo de futebol para eles... um bom jogo. Mais interessante foi a alegria com que viviam a vinda da chuva. Pensava para mim: "Eles estão contentes, mas outros, como estarão...".&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;O tempo surge, a chuva cai, é tempo que urge, que bem vai.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;na Paz de Cristo Crucificado.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Pedro Barros&lt;br/&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-7315295279176532939?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/7315295279176532939/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=7315295279176532939&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/7315295279176532939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/7315295279176532939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2007/02/o-sabor-da-chuva.html' title='o sabor da chuva'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-4732262089293312784</id><published>2007-02-20T12:58:00.001Z</published><updated>2007-02-20T12:58:21.555Z</updated><title type='text'>O mundo das bombas de abastecimento.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;B style=""&gt;O mundo das bombas de abastecimento.&lt;O:P _moz-userdefined="" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;B style=""&gt;&lt;O:P _moz-userdefined=""&gt; &lt;/O:P&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;B style=""&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;           &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Todos nós sabemos que Angola é bem rica &lt;ST1:PERSONNAME _moz-userdefined="" w:st="on" productid="em petr￳leo. At￩"&gt;em  petróleo. Até&lt;/ST1:PERSONNAME&gt; poderíamos pensar que as bombas de abastecimento não têm nenhum transtorno e estão sempre &lt;ST1:PERSONNAME _moz-userdefined="" w:st="on" productid="em funcionamento. No"&gt;em funcionamento. No&lt;/ST1:PERSONNAME&gt; entanto, a procura de gasóleo é bem elevada, razão que se deve também aos geradores de electricidade que a população tem em casa [coisa que seria desnecessária, dado a quantidade de energia que há em Angola, e serviria muito bem para toda agente ter electricidade 24horas por dia]. Uns destes dias da semana iniciámos uma maratona. Saímos de casa por volta das 22h00 em busca de gasóleo para abastecer o carro e os geradores, quer daqui da comunidade de São Paulo quer da comunidade do Mota. Difícil foi encontrar uma bomba onde houvesse gasóleo e que não tivesse filas de &lt;ST1:METRICCONVERTER _moz-userdefined="" w:st="on" productid="50 metros"&gt;50 metros&lt;/ST1:METRICCONVERTER&gt; [já habitual]. Diria que o problema é falta de bombas. Para além disto, e porque parece regra, os camiões que abastecem as bombas saem todos ao mesmo tempo para ir a caminho das mesmas, o que resulta em bombas fechadas e filas cada vez maiores. E a maratona consiste em percorrer a cidade de Luanda a tentar encontrar algum local que não esteja fechado para abastecer e que tenha principalmente gasóleo. É preciso ter sorte. Conseguindo num sítio, o funcionário diz claramente:”&lt;I style=""&gt;Só dois bidões…”,&lt;/i&gt; limitando o que precisamos, e tínhamos seis. Neste local não pudemos fazer nada. Era cerca de 00h00 quando daí saímos, e fomos percorrer novamente as bombas, e passando por algumas fechadas, fomos ter a uma que no início da maratona estava a abastecer, mas naquele momento já estava aberta. Aí conseguimos abastecer tudo… mas tivemos que pagar um pouco mais na conta [“&lt;I style=""&gt;para uma gasosa&lt;/i&gt;”], porque caso contrário seriam apenas mais dois bidões. Era 1h00 e chegávamos a casa. Esgotados e cansados, fomos descansar.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-4732262089293312784?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/4732262089293312784/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=4732262089293312784&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/4732262089293312784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/4732262089293312784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2007/02/o-mundo-das-bombas-de-abastecimento.html' title='O mundo das bombas de abastecimento.'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-3368237755003043194</id><published>2007-02-20T12:57:00.001Z</published><updated>2007-02-20T12:57:32.066Z</updated><title type='text'>A roda dos meninos!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;B style=""&gt;A roda dos meninos!&lt;O:P _moz-userdefined="" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;O:P _moz-userdefined=""&gt; &lt;/O:P&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;           &lt;/span&gt;Numa noite escura, na estrada de terra, passava. Estava a chegar à Casa Magone (dos meninos de risco), no bairro do Mota. Fui visitá-los. Ia cumprimentando todos, mesmo sem saber o nome de todos. A curiosidade invadiu as mentes de alguns, e em breves minutos, ali se fez uma roda. Uma roda de perguntas, que nem conseguia dar vazão a todas as questões e pedidos: “&lt;I style=""&gt;Troca de pele comigo./Leva-me na tua mala./As coisas lá no Portugal são melhores que aqui?/ Lá também existem bandidos?/E bairros como este, há?/ Gostas de Angola?/Porque não ficas aqui connosco?/Já estiveste alguma vez com o Mantorras?E o Simão?...&lt;/i&gt;”; e aí continuaram. Todos olhavam expectantes à espera da(s) minha(s) resposta(s). Acima de tudo quis que eles percebessem a valorizar as suas raízes… Aquele bocadinho de conversa fez-me sentir que tenho muito mais para fazer ainda por cá, eles precisam de ser escutados e precisam de alguém que os apoie, que os auxilie, e acima de tudo, que os amem, como se de filhos se tratassem. Algumas vezes, a rua não é fruto de liberdade, mas da procura de algo que podem não ter em casa, tal como um dos meninos dizia:”&lt;I style=""&gt;a minha mãe batia-me muito…”&lt;/i&gt;. Esta procura, muitos vêm o refúgio na rua. Daí partirem à descoberta de mundos banais, mundanos e perigosos. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-3368237755003043194?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/3368237755003043194/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=3368237755003043194&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/3368237755003043194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/3368237755003043194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2007/02/roda-dos-meninos.html' title='A roda dos meninos!'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-6200738387600107309</id><published>2007-02-10T13:08:00.001Z</published><updated>2007-02-01T20:23:55.163Z</updated><title type='text'>Uma caminhada de amor</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Há coisa que não dispenso quando me desloco por cá [Luanda], uma boa caminhada. Foi o que fiz hoje [5 de Fev.], uma invasão na terra poeirenta desde o bairro da Lixeira até ao bairro do Mota. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Caminhando sobre este sol arrasador e clima abafado, mas ultrapassando isso, fui sempre com um sorriso na cara. Aproveitei para cumprimentar mamãs e papás (que ainda não conhecia, pois esse caminho não faz parte das minhas andanças), sorrir com as crianças e para elas ( cumprimentam com uma palavra tão singela de quem não lhes quer fazer mal nenhum: “Amigo?”). &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;É um caminho cheio de altos e baixos, com buracos fundos e zonas planas, contendo lixo tanto do lado esquerdo como direito… Que importará isto? &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;São muitos os que fazem a sua vida durante o dia fora de casa, ou melhor, junto à porta de casa. É uma imensidão de pessoas, jovens e crianças. Uns jogam futebol; outros enconstam-se à parede apanhando a pouca sombra que têm; outros com as suas barraquinhas vendem principalmente gasosa, cerveja,… É o refúgio para alimentar quem vive no lar. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Todos dizem ser perigoso andar sozinho pelo bairro, e é verdade, mas, se vivermos todos com medo, nunca avançaremos na confiança de Deus. Eu caminho na confiança e, quero mostrar como a vivo. Afinal, acima de tudo, sou testemunho de &lt;ST1:PERSONNAME _moz-userdefined="" w:st="on"&gt;Cris&lt;/ST1:PERSONNAME&gt;to,e faço-o por isso. Tudo correu bem e cheguei ao destino na paz que Deus queria para mim naquele momento.&lt;U&gt;&lt;O:P _moz-userdefined="" /&gt;&lt;/U&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;[9 de Fev.]&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Depois de almoçar na Delegação Salesiana, onde trabalho, vim até casa, na paróquia. Tomei um banho de água fria para suportar a caminhada que ia fazer. Ia trabalhar para o bairro da Lixeira. No entanto, ainda exitei em apanhar o Candongueiro ou ir a pé, e levei dinheiro de reserva caso mudasse de ideias pelo caminho. Mas fui, fui… cheguei ao Mota sem problemas, já bem transpirado. Aí, cumprimentei os meninos da casa Magone&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;e da Mamã Margarida. Disse-lhes que depois passaria à noite, com mais calma. Tinha de estar às 14h00 na Lixeira e já ia um pouco atrasado. Fui penetrando nos bairros, e quase na saída do Mota, sou abordado por uma rapariga que eu já tinha conhecido em Agosto, e ela disse o meu nome e tudo. Muito simpática, e ali estive a falar um pouco com ela. Tenho que arranjar tempo para estar com as pessoas… e não apenas estar fechado num local. É, também, por isso que gosto destas caminhadas. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Passando o Estádio do Progresso, ainda em construção [e já lá vai muito tempo], um rapaz diz-me: &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;“&lt;I style=""&gt;tem que usar chapéu, este calor faz mal&lt;/i&gt;”. Impressionou-me a sua preocupação, e a sua chamada de atenção. Um pouco mais à frente, olho para um grupo de rapazes que sobre uma sombrita também me olham fixamente. Dou mais alguns passos, e eles assobiam e chamam-me ”&lt;I style=""&gt;branco&lt;/i&gt;”. Eu começo a falar com eles, interpelando-os se estava &lt;I style=""&gt;tudo fixe&lt;/i&gt;, dizendo que sim; depois, pedem-me dinheiro para gasosa, onde lhes disse negativamente que não tinha… apalpei os bolsos e tudo. Quando ando sozinho, vou sempre limpinho de tudo, dinheiro, chaves, telemóvel... Mas, depois respondi-lhes que se tivesse não me importava de tomar uma com eles. Ficando por aqui, avancei, e quase chegando ao destino, estavam três rapazes conversando e disse-lhes um &lt;I style=""&gt;olá&lt;/i&gt;, e retorquiram “&lt;I style=""&gt;vais ao Dom Bosco?&lt;/i&gt;”&lt;I style=""&gt; (&lt;/i&gt;apelidam o local dos salesianos na Lixeira de Dom Bosco). Disse que sim. Perguntaram também se vinha de São Paulo, e ao dizer-lhes que sim, disseram “&lt;I style=""&gt;a pé?”&lt;/i&gt;(cara de espanto). Apresentei-me e eles também. De seguida, fui ao CEFAS (Centro de Saúde), onde trabalha a Irmã Donária (Ir. Sacramentinas). Fui ao gabinete dela, e estava com uma cara muito pálida, de cansaço e magrinha. Questionando-a, ela disse, que estava com Paludismo e Febre Tifóide. Espero que ela melhore. Por fim, cheguei ao Dom Bosco, feito em água. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;O:P _moz-userdefined=""&gt; &lt;/O:P&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Podia dizer muito mais, mas queria reflectir nos acontecimentos desta caminhada, uma caminhada de amor. Os caminhos de Deus são infinitos, assim como as suas provações. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Pode-se ler, escutar, , mas nós, como seres únicos, também vivemos na unicidade de cada um. Eu sinto, os outros sentem, mas nunca a causa-efeito será a mesma.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;O:P _moz-userdefined=""&gt; &lt;/O:P&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p align="right" style="text-align: right;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;B style=""&gt;&lt;I style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Sylfaen;"&gt;Ω&lt;/span&gt;&lt;O:P _moz-userdefined="" /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p align="right" style="text-align: right;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;B style=""&gt;&lt;I style=""&gt;na paz de &lt;ST1:PERSONNAME _moz-userdefined="" w:st="on"&gt;Cris&lt;/ST1:PERSONNAME&gt;to crucificado &lt;O:P _moz-userdefined="" /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p align="right" style="text-align: right;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;B style=""&gt;&lt;I style=""&gt;Pedro Barros&lt;O:P _moz-userdefined="" /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-6200738387600107309?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/6200738387600107309/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=6200738387600107309&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/6200738387600107309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/6200738387600107309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2007/02/uma-caminhada-de-amor.html' title='Uma caminhada de amor'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-8711176407677409943</id><published>2007-01-31T06:16:00.001Z</published><updated>2007-01-31T06:16:23.754Z</updated><title type='text'>De novo.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Olá  a todos!&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p&gt;Voltei a Angola, à cidade de Luanda, onde permaneço a fazer o meu estágio e a dedicar-me ao humilde povo que encontro.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p&gt;Passarei a publicar aqui algumas coisas e episódios que vou encontrando nesta missão que Deus me confiou.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p&gt;Abraço Grande!&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p&gt;Tá a koiar.&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p&gt;Pedro Barros &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: right; font-size: 8px"&gt;Blogged with &lt;a href="http://www.flock.com/blogged-with-flock" title="Flock" target="_new"&gt;Flock&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-8711176407677409943?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/8711176407677409943/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=8711176407677409943&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/8711176407677409943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/8711176407677409943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2007/01/de-novo.html' title='De novo.'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-1549557530185473213</id><published>2007-01-17T20:05:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-12T23:36:12.352Z</updated><title type='text'>Tranquilidade</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_24NNo7mGfP0/Ra6E-_Ru2yI/AAAAAAAAAAM/WjwKG9d1J-w/s1600-h/28-05-06_0102.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_24NNo7mGfP0/Ra6E-_Ru2yI/AAAAAAAAAAM/WjwKG9d1J-w/s320/28-05-06_0102.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5021096852237245218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sabem...&lt;br /&gt;Ontem,&lt;br /&gt;Senti,&lt;br /&gt;Pela primeira vez,&lt;br /&gt;A palavra tranquilidade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foi dita numa simplicidade,&lt;br /&gt;Mas num segundo,&lt;br /&gt;Me fez voar,&lt;br /&gt;Sim, sem asas,&lt;br /&gt;Mas mexeu comigo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estar tranquilo...&lt;br /&gt;Que era isso?&lt;br /&gt;Eu não me sentia assim...&lt;br /&gt;Mas ontem,&lt;br /&gt;Mudou. Renasci.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A serenidade voltou,&lt;br /&gt;E sinto-me leve,&lt;br /&gt;Leve como uma pena,&lt;br /&gt;Sem medo, sem receios,&lt;br /&gt;Da direcção Deus ajudará.&lt;br /&gt;Só preciso de desfrutar,&lt;br /&gt;Tranquilamente.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-1549557530185473213?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/1549557530185473213/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=1549557530185473213&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/1549557530185473213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/1549557530185473213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2007/01/tranquilidade.html' title='Tranquilidade'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_24NNo7mGfP0/Ra6E-_Ru2yI/AAAAAAAAAAM/WjwKG9d1J-w/s72-c/28-05-06_0102.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-1983690074886180371</id><published>2007-01-07T21:23:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-07T21:24:08.154Z</updated><title type='text'>O tempo que faz sofrer</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;O tempo que nos faz sofrer&lt;br /&gt;Não é aquele em que viajamos,&lt;br /&gt;Mas sim, o que nos faz querer.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;O tempo que nos faz sofrer&lt;br /&gt;Não salta da varanda e pára,&lt;br /&gt;Mas sim, o que nos faz sonhar.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;O tempo que nos faz sofrer&lt;br /&gt;É interminável no coração,&lt;br /&gt;E sim, nos faz chorar mais.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;O tempo que nos faz sofrer&lt;br /&gt;É perpétuo na lembrança,&lt;br /&gt;E sim, nos faz sentir mais.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-1983690074886180371?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/1983690074886180371/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=1983690074886180371&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/1983690074886180371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/1983690074886180371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2007/01/o-tempo-que-faz-sofrer.html' title='O tempo que faz sofrer'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-3594496415026351713</id><published>2007-01-07T20:26:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-07T20:28:32.683Z</updated><title type='text'>Tlim, tlão…</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Tlim, tlão…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;          &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Um primaz objecto do tempo&lt;br /&gt;Que vive em cada momento,&lt;br /&gt;Não é pessoa nem presente,&lt;br /&gt;Apenas roda suavemente.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Um círculo que se cria&lt;br /&gt;Contabilizando pleno dia.&lt;br /&gt;Acabou a aurora, não é ignorância,&lt;br /&gt;Mas a natureza tem mais importância.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;a href="javascript:void(0)" onclick="return false;" tabindex="7"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;          &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;És auxílio nos tempos perdidos,&lt;br /&gt;E és sofrimento dos destemidos.&lt;br /&gt;As horas do mundo, mudam&lt;br /&gt;Os minutos da vida e transformam&lt;br /&gt;Os segundos em perpétuos ensejos.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-3594496415026351713?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/3594496415026351713/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=3594496415026351713&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/3594496415026351713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/3594496415026351713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2007/01/tlim-tlo.html' title='Tlim, tlão…'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-2707925329361849590</id><published>2006-11-14T21:03:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-07T21:04:29.887Z</updated><title type='text'>Bendito és</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Bendito és &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Procurando encontrar um lugar ditoso&lt;br /&gt;Onde me coloque e ali permaneça constantemente.&lt;br /&gt;Ditando passos e sobrevoando calçadas&lt;br /&gt;Para me compor espiritualmente.&lt;br /&gt;Bendito és, por Te escutar, Ser gracioso.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Calculando sínteses que se adulteram&lt;br /&gt;Em pedaços de papel rasgados inconscientemente.&lt;br /&gt;Detalhando pontos e vírgulas que assentem&lt;br /&gt;Nas missivas formadas profundamente.&lt;br /&gt;Bendito és, por Te escrever, ó Ser que amam.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Louvando as missas que de um toque harmonioso&lt;br /&gt;Respondem à misericórdia que absorvem.&lt;br /&gt;Um sabor que emerge cheio de compaixão&lt;br /&gt;No que toca ao coração sem margem.&lt;br /&gt;Bendito és, por Te sentir, &lt;span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Ser melodioso.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-2707925329361849590?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://pedrobarros.wordpress.com' title='Bendito és'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/2707925329361849590/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=2707925329361849590&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/2707925329361849590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/2707925329361849590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/11/bendito-s.html' title='Bendito és'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-5200265884304107425</id><published>2006-10-29T21:04:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-01-07T21:05:14.471Z</updated><title type='text'>Corações fechados</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Falar de Deus a corações fechados&lt;br /&gt;É tremendamente gratificante,&lt;br /&gt;Mas também desmoralizante,&lt;br /&gt;Quando nos olhos se vê a resistência&lt;br /&gt;Em acolher magnifica alegria,&lt;br /&gt;Falando de Deus aos exactos.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Falar de Deus a espíritos ressequidos&lt;br /&gt;Leva o mar aos perdidos rolos das ondas,&lt;br /&gt;Onde na areia se refugiam as partículas&lt;br /&gt;Perdidas na ausência de momentos&lt;br /&gt;Contigo, nos caminhos infinitos,&lt;br /&gt;Falando de Deus aos inspirados.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Falar de Deus a almas resguardadas&lt;br /&gt;Fazem receber um único sim,&lt;br /&gt;O desafio que acerta em mim.&lt;br /&gt;Nas insígnias de algo supérfluo,&lt;br /&gt;Sem fundamento, nem concluo&lt;br /&gt;A fala de Deus nas provas dadas.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-5200265884304107425?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/5200265884304107425/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=5200265884304107425&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/5200265884304107425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/5200265884304107425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/10/coraes-fechados.html' title='Corações fechados'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-3064208376807082224</id><published>2006-10-28T21:05:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-01-07T21:07:50.551Z</updated><title type='text'>distintos sustenidos</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;a &lt;span&gt;distinção&lt;/span&gt; a &lt;span&gt;quem&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt;é&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt;bem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;não&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt;mata&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt;senão&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt;algúem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;que&lt;/span&gt; para &lt;span&gt;fugire&lt;/span&gt; a &lt;span&gt;quem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;se&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt;teme&lt;/span&gt; o &lt;span&gt;seu&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt;além&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;a &lt;span&gt;distinção&lt;/span&gt; a &lt;span&gt;quem&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt;sofre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;não&lt;/span&gt; roe a &lt;span&gt;mente&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span&gt;pobre&lt;br /&gt;no segredo fúnebre&lt;br /&gt;da alma que me perturbre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-3064208376807082224?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/3064208376807082224/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=3064208376807082224&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/3064208376807082224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/3064208376807082224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/10/distintos-sustenidos.html' title='distintos sustenidos'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-6205335465458708552</id><published>2006-10-02T21:07:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-01-07T21:08:41.325Z</updated><title type='text'>Atmosfera de Deus</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Eu já consegui,&lt;br /&gt;Entrar na tua atmosfera, meu Deus.&lt;br /&gt;Foi nela que me encontrei quando estava perdido.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; Eu já consegui,&lt;br /&gt;Sentir esse ambiente, que só Tu,&lt;br /&gt;Consegues transmitir no teu silêncio o meu.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; Eu já consegui,&lt;br /&gt;Devorar letras e capítulos, porque Tu,&lt;br /&gt;Inspiras as palavras que leio, quando me refugio.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Eu já consegui,&lt;br /&gt;Caminhar sem objectivos, mas faltavas Tu,&lt;br /&gt;E agora Senhor, fazes parte do meu projecto de Vida.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; Eu já consegui,&lt;br /&gt;Cair e levantar-me, porque tinha um amigo,&lt;br /&gt;Eras Tu, e sempre me ajudaste a reconhecer os erros.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; Eu já consegui,&lt;br /&gt;Fechar-me no escuro, para sentir as faltas&lt;br /&gt;Que cometi nestes anos, e Tu fizeste-me recordar alegrias.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; Eu já consegui,&lt;br /&gt;Olhar o horizonte sorridente e luzente,&lt;br /&gt;Mas vi &lt;span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;também raios que me perturbam no trilho.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; Eu já consegui,&lt;br /&gt;Sentir-te, Amar-te, Ver-te, Louvar-te,&lt;br /&gt;E hoje consigo acima de tudo, ajoelhar-me a TI.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-6205335465458708552?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/6205335465458708552/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=6205335465458708552&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/6205335465458708552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/6205335465458708552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/10/atmosfera-de-deus_02.html' title='Atmosfera de Deus'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-6821202516536347263</id><published>2006-10-02T21:07:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-01-07T21:08:39.290Z</updated><title type='text'>Atmosfera de Deus</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Eu já consegui,&lt;br /&gt;Entrar na tua atmosfera, meu Deus.&lt;br /&gt;Foi nela que me encontrei quando estava perdido.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; Eu já consegui,&lt;br /&gt;Sentir esse ambiente, que só Tu,&lt;br /&gt;Consegues transmitir no teu silêncio o meu.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; Eu já consegui,&lt;br /&gt;Devorar letras e capítulos, porque Tu,&lt;br /&gt;Inspiras as palavras que leio, quando me refugio.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Eu já consegui,&lt;br /&gt;Caminhar sem objectivos, mas faltavas Tu,&lt;br /&gt;E agora Senhor, fazes parte do meu projecto de Vida.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; Eu já consegui,&lt;br /&gt;Cair e levantar-me, porque tinha um amigo,&lt;br /&gt;Eras Tu, e sempre me ajudaste a reconhecer os erros.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; Eu já consegui,&lt;br /&gt;Fechar-me no escuro, para sentir as faltas&lt;br /&gt;Que cometi nestes anos, e Tu fizeste-me recordar alegrias.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; Eu já consegui,&lt;br /&gt;Olhar o horizonte sorridente e luzente,&lt;br /&gt;Mas vi &lt;span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;também raios que me perturbam no trilho.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; Eu já consegui,&lt;br /&gt;Sentir-te, Amar-te, Ver-te, Louvar-te,&lt;br /&gt;E hoje consigo acima de tudo, ajoelhar-me a TI.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-6821202516536347263?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/6821202516536347263/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=6821202516536347263&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/6821202516536347263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/6821202516536347263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/10/atmosfera-de-deus.html' title='Atmosfera de Deus'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-9172177722767457220</id><published>2006-09-28T21:08:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-01-07T21:09:25.579Z</updated><title type='text'>Dureza de sentir ou cair.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="snap_preview"&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Nem uma afável língua&lt;br /&gt;Comunicadora entre todos&lt;br /&gt;Transforma a exígua&lt;br /&gt;Lástima de sopros.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na dureza &lt;span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;inócua&lt;br /&gt;Onde constam blocos&lt;br /&gt;Que fragilidades apazigua,&lt;br /&gt;Os cânticos repletos.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na dureza de cair&lt;br /&gt;Sem almas aspergir,&lt;br /&gt;Deixar-te ir&lt;br /&gt;E no oculto partir.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nem um sentir&lt;br /&gt;Corpo e fogo unir&lt;br /&gt;Sem jogos fugir&lt;br /&gt;Ao longe sair.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-9172177722767457220?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://pedrobarros.wordpress.com' title='Dureza de sentir ou cair.'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/9172177722767457220/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=9172177722767457220&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/9172177722767457220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/9172177722767457220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/09/dureza-de-sentir-ou-cair.html' title='Dureza de sentir ou cair.'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-115219026333517804</id><published>2006-07-06T13:51:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-08-27T16:34:51.303+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Dissipam-se os ventos</title><content type='html'>Dissipam-se os ventos&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Em que lugar se escondeu o vento,&lt;br/&gt;Que de tão longe trazia ventanias&lt;br/&gt;Capazes de jogar para longe, e tão perto,&lt;br/&gt;Os aconchegos da tempestade suave.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Em que lugar se espalhou o vento,&lt;br/&gt;Que escapou por entre os corpos&lt;br/&gt;Levando sempre,mas sempre, o sorriso,&lt;br/&gt;Que se torna dificil neste encontro.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Em que lugar se esqueceu o vento&lt;br/&gt;De passar e largar a sua marca,&lt;br/&gt;Senão quando se está só, e força,&lt;br/&gt;Ressurgindo por entre insignias.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Em que lugar, Em que local,&lt;br/&gt;Deixei o vento escapar, e o olhar evaporar?&lt;br/&gt;Em que espaço, Em que mundo,&lt;br/&gt;Deixei o vento transparecer, e o corpo tornar-se insólito.&lt;br/&gt;Em que viagem há-de o vento retornar.?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-115219026333517804?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/115219026333517804/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=115219026333517804&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/115219026333517804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/115219026333517804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/07/dissipam-se-os-ventos.html' title='Dissipam-se os ventos'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-114648624583193374</id><published>2006-05-01T13:24:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-01T21:39:54.743+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Olhares tristes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Olhares tristes.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1085.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/100_1085.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Sem chama não há fogo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Sem fogo não há chama,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Sem os dois, não há Amor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Os fragmentos que ficam,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Descontentamentos que aumentam,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;E sabendo, não querer sentir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Sem água não há maresia,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Sem maresia não há alegria,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Sem mais querer, apenas perceber.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Os distintos caminhos das viagens,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Conduzem às constantes imagens.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Arrastos de sensações sem explicações.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Sem tronco não há árvore,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Sem árvore não há tronco,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Sem os dois, esquece-se a magia da vida.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Se os remos insistem em partir,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Que resulta de tudo isto, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Se não existir comunhão?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Se os olhares mudaram,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Escondendo-se dos medos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Que tudo podem causar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-114648624583193374?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/114648624583193374/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=114648624583193374&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114648624583193374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114648624583193374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/05/olhares-tristes.html' title='Olhares tristes'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-114579120406281110</id><published>2006-04-23T12:20:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-25T22:42:04.106+01:00</updated><title type='text'>As viagens do meu mundo...</title><content type='html'>As viagens do meu mundo…&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;As viagens do meu mundo,&lt;br/&gt;Estão distantes e longínquas&lt;br/&gt;São sombras do profundo,&lt;br/&gt;Sabedorias e constantes capicuas.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Fugazes as vozes de auxílio,&lt;br/&gt;Almofadas sem aconchego.&lt;br/&gt;Criações que levam ao exílio,&lt;br/&gt;Perdições sem desassossego.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Cravando cruzes escondidas,&lt;br/&gt;Sem açoites injuriados.&lt;br/&gt;Relembrando pedaços dados,&lt;br/&gt;Quando novo, situações vividas.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-114579120406281110?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/114579120406281110/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=114579120406281110&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114579120406281110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114579120406281110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/04/as-viagens-do-meu-mundo.html' title='As viagens do meu mundo...'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-114511832956265141</id><published>2006-04-15T17:24:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-15T18:00:13.250+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Como podemos ficar indiferentes?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/lFooLLrlWfQ" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Podia vendar os olhos,&lt;br /&gt;Não ver quanta desgraça existe.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Podia esquecer os outros&lt;br /&gt;Sem imaginar o quanto egoísta seria.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Podia viver sem remorsos&lt;br /&gt;Mas perante tanto sofrimento que choca...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Podia levar a minha vida habitual&lt;br /&gt;Mas não recordar imagens como estas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Podia sofrer sem ser por isto&lt;br /&gt;Mas onde está o meu Amor?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Podia fugir à inculpabilidade deste povo&lt;br /&gt;Mas se sou e posso ser um dos culpados...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vejamos quanto precisam de nós.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/cbvLe9jXI7s"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/cbvLe9jXI7s" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-114511832956265141?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/114511832956265141/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=114511832956265141&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114511832956265141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114511832956265141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/04/como-podemos-ficar-indiferentes.html' title='Como podemos ficar indiferentes?'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-114496422551801546</id><published>2006-04-13T22:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-13T22:37:06.730+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Cena de Amor</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/jessus.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 361px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 276px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="569" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/jessus.jpg" width="361" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Cena de Amor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Páscoa que chega,&lt;br /&gt;Despertando o entusiasmo&lt;br /&gt;Desta vivência&lt;br /&gt;No Amor da Eucaristia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um acto sacramental&lt;br /&gt;De todos os dias,&lt;br /&gt;Num corpo que se fez Espírito&lt;br /&gt;E Alma no Mundo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instituição do que advinha&lt;br /&gt;Caiu sobre mim a sua chama,&lt;br /&gt;Alimento da minha fé,&lt;br /&gt;Sangue da minha vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Cena de Amor,&lt;br /&gt;O Corpo do Redentor,&lt;br /&gt;A Alma do Apóstolo,&lt;br /&gt;O Espírito do Salvador.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-114496422551801546?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/114496422551801546/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=114496422551801546&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114496422551801546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114496422551801546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/04/cena-de-amor.html' title='Cena de Amor'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-114462099171584818</id><published>2006-04-09T23:13:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-09T23:16:31.733+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1313.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/100_1313.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Sem mais nada, percorro,&lt;br /&gt;Sem mais nada, percorro,&lt;br /&gt;Distâncias longas para ir&lt;br /&gt;Ao Teu encontro,&lt;br /&gt;Ao Teu encontro, nas margens semear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sem mais nada, transito,&lt;br /&gt;Sem mais nada, transito,&lt;br /&gt;Ai quantas imagens,&lt;br /&gt;Deixam ir,&lt;br /&gt;Deixam ir, espalhando mensagens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tu fazes parte da minha história,&lt;br /&gt;Tu fazes parte do meu amor,&lt;br /&gt;Porque eu em Ti, sinto,&lt;br /&gt;Porque eu em Ti, vivo,&lt;br /&gt;Porque eu em Ti, Te sigo, Senhor.&lt;br /&gt;Porque eu em Ti, Te sigo, Senhor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sem mais nada, descubro,&lt;br /&gt;Sem mais nada, descubro,&lt;br /&gt;Tu, aqui comigo,&lt;br /&gt;Sempre, Sempre, Sempre.&lt;br /&gt;Tu e Eu, Tu e Nós, Senhor és Tu&lt;br /&gt;Senhor és Tu, a minha voz.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-114462099171584818?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/114462099171584818/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=114462099171584818&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114462099171584818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114462099171584818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/04/sem-mais-nada-percorro-sem-mais-nada.html' title=''/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-114423126556893509</id><published>2006-04-05T11:01:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-05T11:01:05.623+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Algum me diz</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Alguém me diz…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Lendo paisagens da natureza, encontro-Te, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;E ouvindo-Te por sonetos escritos por outrem,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Mas que, simplesmente, evocam a Tua autoria.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Sempre Te descobrimos, presente, no nosso espírito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Um espírito que só a Ti pertence, porque somos Teus.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Caindo na profundeza das Tuas parábolas, iluminas-me,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;O dom dessa palavra escrita e praticada, fogo da minha Fé,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Que grande descoberta, a de correr ao encontro do Teu sinal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Sempre Te descobrimos, juntos, que imanas o nosso ser.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Um ser que só cresce e vive em festa, porque somos Teus.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Querendo levar-Te sempre comigo, caminhando,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Na força dos ventos e pelas maresias do sonho,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Respondendo, convictamente, aos mistérios dos Teus rastos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt;Sempre, porque sempre, e só sempre e para sempre serei Teu!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial Narrow;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-114423126556893509?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/114423126556893509/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=114423126556893509&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114423126556893509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114423126556893509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/04/algum-me-diz.html' title='Algum me diz'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-114418720132664676</id><published>2006-04-04T22:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-04T22:46:41.396+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Um sorriso aberto ...</title><content type='html'>Um sorriso aberto nos lábios do teu encontro.&lt;br/&gt;Um sorriso desperto nas imagens do tesouro.&lt;br/&gt;Um sorriso incerto nas insígnias de ouro.&lt;br/&gt;Um sorriso almejado na fúria do teu ser.&lt;br/&gt;Um sorriso…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-114418720132664676?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/114418720132664676/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=114418720132664676&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114418720132664676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114418720132664676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/04/um-sorriso-aberto.html' title='Um sorriso aberto ...'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-114359119280120692</id><published>2006-03-29T01:08:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-04-06T13:28:48.693+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Vi a mão de Deus!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/F??tima_ac????o"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/F%3F%3Ftima_ac%3F%3F%3F%3Fo%20forma%3F%3F%3F%3Fo%20006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje, chegando a casa,&lt;br /&gt;Senti a Tua presença.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O céu escuro, nublado,&lt;br /&gt;Cativou-me porque estavas lá Tu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Atentamente, fixei o meu olhar&lt;br /&gt;Em traços que Te distinguiam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A feição da Tua mão estava ali&lt;br /&gt;E que perfeição tinha, a contemplação.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tu podes tudo, e em Ti creio,&lt;br /&gt;O poder da Tua mão, a salvação.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teu Filho, que usou a tua mão,&lt;br /&gt;Para curar os enfermos, a purificação!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;És Tu a mão dos meus dias,&lt;br /&gt;A força que puxa – a bênção!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-114359119280120692?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/114359119280120692/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=114359119280120692&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114359119280120692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114359119280120692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/03/vi-mo-de-deus.html' title='Vi a mão de Deus!'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-114350282476900579</id><published>2006-03-28T00:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-03-28T00:40:24.820+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A minha oração</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;A minha oração.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Meu Senhor, acredito sempre que És a fonte da minha existência,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;O esconderijo do meu sofrimento e a perseverança da minha atitude.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Meu Senhor, bem sabes que corro sempre ao Teu encontro,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Quer seja nas lágrimas da dor, Quer seja nas saudosas alegrias.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Meu Senhor, carrego algumas cruzes do passado, ineptas no presente,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Porque nos meus pecados vejo a conversão dos meus erros.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Meu Senhor, dar-Te espaço no meu &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;canto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;, é uma alegria,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Querendo viver o gáudio da tua compaixão em mim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Meu Senhor, no meu choro, sabes pelo que anseio, sabes o que me inquieta,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Porque só tu podes guiar-me, e os teus sinais, são eternamente visíveis.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Meu Senhor, ao estar aqui contigo, quanto me apraza a sede e a fome,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Fazendo que a minha Fé seja como rocha, o Amor como água, a Vida como grão de areia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Meu Senhor, como te louvo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Meu Senhor, como te amo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Meu Senhor, como te adoro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Meu Senhor, como te dignifico&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Meu Senhor, como te exalto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Meu Senhor, como te clamo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Tu és a minha alma e o meu espírito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-114350282476900579?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/114350282476900579/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=114350282476900579&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114350282476900579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114350282476900579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/03/minha-orao.html' title='A minha oração'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-114324907463601142</id><published>2006-03-25T01:10:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-25T01:11:14.646Z</updated><title type='text'>Desviar o meu olhar</title><content type='html'>Desviar o meu olhar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Já esqueci o olhar&lt;br /&gt;Que tanto me queria desviar&lt;br /&gt;Da atenção que prestei ao lacrimejar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Já deixei libertar o olhar&lt;br /&gt;Dos momentos fundos de adorar&lt;br /&gt;A missão que me faz devanear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Já perdi a sombra&lt;br /&gt;Desse dia escuro que encerra&lt;br /&gt;Brotando um novo chegar do olhar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Já desviei o meu olhar&lt;br /&gt;Para que o tanto que me faz caminhar&lt;br /&gt;Dê forças para ir alcançando sempre o amar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-114324907463601142?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/114324907463601142/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=114324907463601142&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114324907463601142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114324907463601142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/03/desviar-o-meu-olhar.html' title='Desviar o meu olhar'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-114277384919446566</id><published>2006-03-19T12:41:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-19T13:10:49.246Z</updated><title type='text'>No ontem...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No ontem sabia que a dor do coração&lt;br /&gt;Era o ázimo de não encontrar doação.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No ontem sabia que o morrer de cansaço&lt;br /&gt;Era o padecimento de transpor um passo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No ontem sabia que o silêncio era poder,&lt;br /&gt;Era o conter e renunciar de tanto dizer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No ontem sabia que à luz do corpo&lt;br /&gt;Era a chama do coração se tornando carpo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No ontem sabia que a razão da alma&lt;br /&gt;Era a invalidez de manear a calma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No ontem sabia que o escutar&lt;br /&gt;Era o vaticínio de todos os dias partir para anunciar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No ontem… vemos o de hoje.&lt;br /&gt;No ontem… melhoramos o do amanhã.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-114277384919446566?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/114277384919446566/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=114277384919446566&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114277384919446566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114277384919446566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/03/no-ontem.html' title='No ontem...'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-114203873228971185</id><published>2006-03-11T00:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-15T18:30:58.250Z</updated><title type='text'>O sofrimento que vem da música…</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1201.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/100_1201.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quanto tempo, deparo,&lt;br /&gt;Singrando os meus ouvidos&lt;br /&gt;Por ondas fecundas de sentimentos&lt;br /&gt;Que surgem nas mais bonitas sonoridades.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quanto tempo, estranho,&lt;br /&gt;Navegando os meus olhares&lt;br /&gt;Nas paisagens que choro ao lembrar,&lt;br /&gt;Sentindo vivências de outros lugares.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quanto tempo, imagino,&lt;br /&gt;Nesse alcançar dos meus sonhos&lt;br /&gt;Por intermédio de flutuações retraídas&lt;br /&gt;Querendo marcá-los pelos segredos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quanto tempo, sufoca,&lt;br /&gt;Velejando de corpo inteiro&lt;br /&gt;Invadindo as águas corrompidas&lt;br /&gt;Decretos intimistas e nada percussionistas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quanto tempo, acalmia,&lt;br /&gt;Rumos de sonetos soltos&lt;br /&gt;Nas pautas de uma vida com quedas&lt;br /&gt;Que sofrem por tantas claves…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-114203873228971185?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/114203873228971185/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=114203873228971185&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114203873228971185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114203873228971185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/03/o-sofrimento-que-vem-da-msica.html' title='O sofrimento que vem da música…'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-114177458006525719</id><published>2006-03-07T23:27:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-07T23:36:20.076Z</updated><title type='text'>Ver-Te</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1130.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/100_1130.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Ver-Te, é um efémero pensamento&lt;br /&gt;Que brota do imaginário do momento?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ver-Te, é um enlace visual&lt;br /&gt;Que escapa ao súbito intermitente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ver-Te, é sinal dos tempos&lt;br /&gt;Que correm ausentes de tudo e de Ti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ver-Te, é clarificar a minha alma&lt;br /&gt;Que se camufla só para te encontrar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ver-Te, é dar-me por inteiro&lt;br /&gt;Quer no pensamento, na vida, no perpétuo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ver-Te, é olhar tudo o que tens&lt;br /&gt;Quer na criação, na paixão e&lt;br /&gt;na reconstrução de um templo novo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-114177458006525719?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/114177458006525719/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=114177458006525719&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114177458006525719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114177458006525719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/03/ver-te.html' title='Ver-Te'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-114098922577764533</id><published>2006-02-26T21:04:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-27T14:01:52.920Z</updated><title type='text'>O cais...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_0506.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/100_0506.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;::cidade de aveiro::&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_0506.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;O cais...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ó cais das lágrimas,&lt;br /&gt;Padeço de Ti,&lt;br /&gt;Quando nas viagens&lt;br /&gt;Te vejo partir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A revolta das águas,&lt;br /&gt;Criam ondas,&lt;br /&gt;Jamais pensadas&lt;br /&gt;Nestas heranças.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ó cais das lágrimas,&lt;br /&gt;Atracar-me a Ti&lt;br /&gt;Afogando as mágoas&lt;br /&gt;E ter-Te para mim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ó cais das lágrimas,&lt;br /&gt;Não quero desprender-me,&lt;br /&gt;Quero sim, viver,&lt;br /&gt;Sempre junto a Ti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A calma das águas,&lt;br /&gt;Demonstram a serenidade&lt;br /&gt;Da tua imagem,&lt;br /&gt;A quem, a Ti, ama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ó cais das lágrimas,&lt;br /&gt;Nada faz sentido, se Tu,&lt;br /&gt;Não estás dentro de mim.&lt;br /&gt;Nada demonstra sentimento,&lt;br /&gt;Se não foi pensado em TI!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O meu cais...&lt;br /&gt;Que tantos vêm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;P.S.: o que consideramos como dádiva?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-114098922577764533?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/114098922577764533/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=114098922577764533&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114098922577764533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114098922577764533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/02/o-cais.html' title='O cais...'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-114056309011494634</id><published>2006-02-21T22:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-21T23:04:50.196Z</updated><title type='text'>Seduzido pelo Teu amor.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1248.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/100_1248.1.jpg" alt="" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;Seduzido pelo Teu amor.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;        &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Acreditar no Teu amor,&lt;br /&gt;Jamais me fez equivocar,&lt;br /&gt;Na forma como a tua voz&lt;br /&gt;Soa ao meu ouvido,&lt;br /&gt;Em cada vez que te escuto!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;          &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sonhar com o Teu amor,&lt;br /&gt;Jamais me fez imaginar&lt;br /&gt;Outra forma de vida,&lt;br /&gt;Senão a que te seguir,&lt;br /&gt;Em cada passo que percorro!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;            &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Espalhar o Teu amor,&lt;br /&gt;Jamais me fez cair&lt;br /&gt;No erro de descartar&lt;br /&gt;Ou abandonar a força&lt;br /&gt;Da Tua palavra,&lt;br /&gt;Em cada letra que pronuncio!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;          &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Cultivar o Teu amor,&lt;br /&gt;Jamais me fez esquecer&lt;br /&gt;Da gota de água,&lt;br /&gt;E do brilho que transmites&lt;br /&gt;Em cada olhar que permeio!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;          &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: left;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Viver o Teu amor,&lt;br /&gt;Jamais me fez duvidar&lt;br /&gt;Dos sinais do clamor&lt;br /&gt;Que introduzes em mim,&lt;br /&gt;Em cada rio de lágrima vivo!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-114056309011494634?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/114056309011494634/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=114056309011494634&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114056309011494634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114056309011494634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/02/seduzido-pelo-teu-amor.html' title='Seduzido pelo Teu amor.'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-114056080596941609</id><published>2006-02-21T22:14:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-21T22:26:45.983Z</updated><title type='text'>Bons momentos…</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1265.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/100_1265.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Bons momentos…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Com muito querer,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;As memórias ressalvam os esquecimentos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Que depuramos nos passos marcados,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Em constantes momentos vividos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Com muito viver,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Choramos pelas saudades que deixámos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Noutras terras, noutros mundos que não o nosso,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Nos constantes momentos queridos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Com muito lembrar,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Vemos os rostos das imagens guardadas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Por registos ubíquos de memória&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Em constantes momentos saudosos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-114056080596941609?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/114056080596941609/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=114056080596941609&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114056080596941609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114056080596941609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/02/bons-momentos.html' title='Bons momentos…'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-114013845283302486</id><published>2006-02-17T01:03:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-17T01:07:32.846Z</updated><title type='text'>Adonai, Adonai</title><content type='html'>A tua palavra&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adonai, Adonai&lt;br /&gt;Porque a tua palavra&lt;br /&gt;É símbolo de Amor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adonai, Adonai,&lt;br /&gt;Porque a tua palavra &lt;br /&gt;É instrumento orientador.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adonai, Adonai,&lt;br /&gt;Porque a tua palavra&lt;br /&gt;É o meu trilho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adonai, Adonai,&lt;br /&gt;Porque a tua palavra&lt;br /&gt;Faz da espiga, milho.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-114013845283302486?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/114013845283302486/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=114013845283302486&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114013845283302486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114013845283302486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/02/adonai-adonai.html' title='Adonai, Adonai'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-114009197036069936</id><published>2006-02-16T12:10:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-16T12:12:50.360Z</updated><title type='text'>Um escutar profundo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1347.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/100_1347.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Um escutar profundo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se chegasse o lembrar,&lt;br /&gt;Se chegasse o recordar,&lt;br /&gt;Se chegasse o sonhar,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nada, para mim, me fazia levantar.&lt;br /&gt;Nada, para mim, me fazia sentir.&lt;br /&gt;Nada, para mim, me fazia pedalar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se chega o querer,&lt;br /&gt;Se chega o saber,&lt;br /&gt;Se chega o ter,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exíguo, para mim, se emanar,&lt;br /&gt;Exíguo, para mim, se sofrer,&lt;br /&gt;Exíguo, para mim, se chorar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se chegar o acreditar,&lt;br /&gt;Se chegar o amar,&lt;br /&gt;Se chegar o apaixonar,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Existe, para mim, um voar,&lt;br /&gt;Existe, para mim, um acreditar,&lt;br /&gt;Existe, para mim, um exaltar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um exaltar de alegria,&lt;br /&gt;Um acreditar apaixonado,&lt;br /&gt;Um voar até TI.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-114009197036069936?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/114009197036069936/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=114009197036069936&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114009197036069936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114009197036069936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/02/um-escutar-profundo.html' title='Um escutar profundo'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-114009174225298028</id><published>2006-02-16T11:51:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-16T21:45:07.260Z</updated><title type='text'>A força que me move.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1296.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/100_1296.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A força que me move.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A força que me move,&lt;br /&gt;Está para além,&lt;br /&gt;Daquilo que vemos!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A força que me move,&lt;br /&gt;Esconde-se quando fojes,&lt;br /&gt;Quando nos perdemos!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A força que me move,&lt;br /&gt;Incrementa o fogo divino,&lt;br /&gt;Se nos desvanecemos!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A força que me move,&lt;br /&gt;Vacila sempre no coração,&lt;br /&gt;Se esquecidos da sua paixão.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-114009174225298028?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/114009174225298028/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=114009174225298028&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114009174225298028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/114009174225298028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/02/fora-que-me-move.html' title='A força que me move.'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-113961621007383147</id><published>2006-02-10T23:59:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-13T14:10:55.426Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;«Faz-te ao largo; e vós, lançai as redes para a pesca.»&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 247.8pt; text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;Lc 5, 4&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;             &lt;/span&gt;Sentir a presença de Deus em cada um de nós, vai deixando de ser uma relação de vivência perceptível, isto é, que se mostra aos outros. Não digo que essa relação também não possa ser dessa forma, mas quem é o verdadeiro cristão? O que vive cultivando, ou o que permanece esperando? Aquele que se dá a conhecer por estar presente, ou aquele que faz da sua presença, silêncio&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;         &lt;/span&gt;Sentir a presença de Deus, deve partir de uma construção pessoal de diálogo, de conversa com Ele. Assim conduzo a minha vida, permanecendo fiel no meu silêncio, que por muitas vezes quebrado, volta a ganhar os contornos de uma presença viva que posso levar a meu lado, numa singela e magnifica construção de palavras. Estas, carismáticas e apreciadas. Num pequeno, mas confuso, mundo, o que me aviva a sabedoria desta confiança, desta Fé, não se deve às forças que sinto levantarem-me quando só consigo rastejar, mas sim, nas forças que me acompanham, quando e dando um exemplo: consigo esfregar o olho, e desse olho posso ver e perspectivar a vida, mas não chega, e essa visão começa a ter contornos distorcidos e vejo alguém orientando-me por vales incertos de magia fecunda. A quem esta graça?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;             &lt;/span&gt;Sentir a presença de Deus, é viver na confiança desse Homem, que se fez e se faz ao largo, quando a esperança se extingue, surgindo um sinal de luz, que se transforma numa chama ardente e amima o horizonte da vida. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;  &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;             &lt;/span&gt;Sentir a presença de Deus, toma em nós uma diversidade de formas, de âmbitos, de contextos. Sentir o apelo de Deus, toma uma diversidade de inquietações, de perturbações, de palpitações. Sentir o chamamento vocacional, conjuga-se em dois verbos – vir e seguir. Segue-me, Seguir-me-ás. Vem. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;             &lt;/span&gt;Sentir a presença de Deus, é Ser pescador, trilhando por águas, os ensinamentos do mestre, do grande mestre, adágio digno de um Pescador que moveu e conquistou, por oceanos perdidos, peixes. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-113961621007383147?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/113961621007383147/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=113961621007383147&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113961621007383147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113961621007383147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/02/faz-te-ao-largo-e-vs-lanai-as-redes.html' title=''/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-113921578227830493</id><published>2006-02-06T08:43:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-06T08:49:42.293Z</updated><title type='text'>Onde te procurar…</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1264.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/100_1264.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p face="verdana" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p face="verdana" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p face="verdana" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p face="verdana" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p face="verdana" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p face="verdana" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14;"&gt;Onde te procurar…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: verdana;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p style="font-family: verdana;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Onde te posso encontrar, Senhor,&lt;br /&gt;Quando me interpelas,&lt;br /&gt;E em nada te respondo?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p style="font-family: verdana;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onde te posso imaginar, Senhor,&lt;br /&gt;Quando os meus olhos derramam lágrimas,&lt;br /&gt;E em nada te assemelho?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p style="font-family: verdana;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onde te posso buscar, Senhor,&lt;br /&gt;Quando o escuro me faz consentir de dor,&lt;br /&gt;E em nada te manifesto?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                  &lt;p style="font-family: verdana;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;Onde te procurar, Senhor?&lt;br /&gt;Estás em mim, dentro de mim.&lt;br /&gt;Onde te procurar, Senhor?&lt;br /&gt;Conhecendo-te, no meu íntimo.&lt;br /&gt;Onde te procurar, Senhor?&lt;br /&gt;Na comoção que sinto…&lt;br /&gt;Onde, Onde te procurar… Onde?&lt;br /&gt;Na oração, contemplação da paixão.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p style="font-family: verdana;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onde te posso sentir, Senhor,&lt;br /&gt;Quando as minha mãos são livres,&lt;br /&gt;E em nada te toco?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                &lt;p style="font-family: verdana;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onde te posso ver, Senhor,&lt;br /&gt;Quando os obstáculos me fazem perder,&lt;br /&gt;E em nada te alcanço?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onde te posso abraçar, Senhor,&lt;br /&gt;Quando as mentes desvanecem o ser,&lt;br /&gt;E em nada te abraço?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p style="font-family: verdana;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onde te posso amar, Senhor,&lt;br /&gt;Quando o coração pede mais,&lt;br /&gt;E em nada te identifico?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: verdana;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;              &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Onde te procurar, Senhor?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estás em mim, dentro de mim.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Onde te procurar, Senhor?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Conhecendo-te, no meu íntimo.&lt;br /&gt;Onde te procurar, Senhor?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Na comoção que sinto…&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onde, Onde te procurar… Onde?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-113921578227830493?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/113921578227830493/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=113921578227830493&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113921578227830493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113921578227830493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/02/onde-te-procurar.html' title='Onde te procurar…'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-113891958315904556</id><published>2006-02-02T22:28:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-04T12:30:20.856Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/100_1243.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Grandiosidade do existir&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;              &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;E&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;xultando de gáudio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;X&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;is infinita como humano&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;mpetuosidade interior fraca&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;S&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;erviço missionário pregado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;T&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;raz junto do fogo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;maginário realista puro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;R&lt;/span&gt;eservado ao Amor&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;N&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;ascentes de água espalham o afecto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;O&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;rlas frestas à invasão do temor&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;ntes que a luz perca o alento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;M&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;istérios de fé me encherão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;O&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;bservadores dos trilhos encontrados&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;R&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;aciocínios verosímeis na humildade do rosto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-113891958315904556?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/113891958315904556/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=113891958315904556&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113891958315904556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113891958315904556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/02/grandiosidade-do-existir-exultando-de.html' title=''/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-113874306470159851</id><published>2006-01-31T21:27:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-31T21:31:04.726Z</updated><title type='text'>de coração aberto</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1244.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/100_1244.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;De coração aberto,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Receptivo à Tua força&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ouço os toques suaves&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Da Tua essência.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;De coração aberto,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A invasão da Tua palavra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Como saber e dom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Do entendimento.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;De coração aberto,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Captando os sinais&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Que fazem sentir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Viva a Tua existência.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;De coração aberto,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Encetado em formas &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;No interior de mim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;As energias do Teu amor.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-113874306470159851?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/113874306470159851/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=113874306470159851&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113874306470159851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113874306470159851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/01/de-corao-aberto.html' title='de coração aberto'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-113854025168977377</id><published>2006-01-29T13:10:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-30T15:55:25.860Z</updated><title type='text'>Escutar-te</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1292.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/100_1292.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A tua força Senhor,&lt;br /&gt;Como é grande e viva.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A tua obra,&lt;br /&gt;Símbolo de alegria, e de salvação.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O teu olhar,&lt;br /&gt;Como me perturba, me consome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O teu guiar,&lt;br /&gt;Como marca os caminhos da vida,&lt;br /&gt;Os trilhos do meu andar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A tua palavra,&lt;br /&gt;Um incentivo ao meu coração,&lt;br /&gt;Ser pessoa do teu povo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A tua voz, &lt;br /&gt;Alimenta-me no medo,&lt;br /&gt;E rejubila o entendimento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A tua luz,&lt;br /&gt;que me ilumine,&lt;br /&gt;quando de dia já vejo a noite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A ti, Senhor, louvo toda a tua Graça.&lt;br /&gt;A ti, Senhor, receptivo ao teu amor&lt;br /&gt;A ti, Senhor, escuto de coração aberto. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-113854025168977377?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/113854025168977377/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=113854025168977377&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113854025168977377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113854025168977377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/01/escutar-te.html' title='Escutar-te'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-113800778804586066</id><published>2006-01-23T09:15:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-23T09:16:28.643Z</updated><title type='text'>Um brilho nos teus olhos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um brilho nos teus olhos.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             O mundo ou as pessoas, fazem com que nos enganemos a nós mesmos. Que sintamos que somos nós os errantes e pecadores, os injustos ou inadequados. Fazemos um esforço enorme para contrariar a ordem natural das coisas, isto é, o senso comum, e todos os tradicionalismos exigidas socialmente… As passagens, os trilhos, os caminhos que percorremos e esperamos alcançar, fazem de nós, pessoas fortes, pessoas exigentes, pessoas revolucionárias.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             Sermos sobreviventes num mundo escuro e de almas incrédulas, permite-nos retirar grandes ensinamentos para a vida, a nossa vida. É ser uma alavanca, que nos invoca ao degrau mais puro do ser, ser humano, na sua dimensão social e espiritual. Uma dimensão espiritual que enriquece esplendorosamente o nosso mundo, e como nos sentimos confortáveis e acarinhados. Deixemos encarnar em nós a presença viva de que somos seguidores de um jubileu que transforma e se adapta a cada um de nós, como fogo ardente que nos persegue para que mais rapidamente alcancemos a paz interior. Louvando as magnitudes das capacidades que nos são conferidas pela obra do Senhor, que cresça em nós, cada vez mais, o apelo à esperança… num tempo de espera, num tempo de chegada, num tempo de vida que urge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             Não intitulo-te de “Um brilho nos teus olhos”, porque fica bem, ou parece bem. Temos de encontrar em nós, a força do brilho que temos guardada cá dentro. Um brilho que deslumbra, que chama a sermos genuínos. Genuínos na vida, Genuínos de Coração., Genuínos no Amor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Abençoado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-113800778804586066?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/113800778804586066/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=113800778804586066&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113800778804586066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113800778804586066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/01/um-brilho-nos-teus-olhos.html' title='Um brilho nos teus olhos'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-113786487329733833</id><published>2006-01-21T17:32:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-21T17:34:33.316Z</updated><title type='text'>Aglup</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 15pt; font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;Aglup&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;No mundo dos nomes,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;Aglup surge, refugiada em ti.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;Como força, viva aqui,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;Num globo de contrastes.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;No mundo dos amigos,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;Espalhas olhares de magia&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;E enfeitiças os cânticos&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;Com vigílias de simpatia.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;No mundo dos amores,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;Centilam focos de luz&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;Embalados por gestos teus,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;Que só por ti, os seduz.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;No mundo dos louvores,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;Louvar sempre a quem&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;No feliz faz, pelo bem&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;Surpresas e aclamares.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;Um sorriso alegre para ti&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;Dos amigos que ficam&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;Dos amigos que te adoram&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;Sempre juntos, aqui.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;Aglup, Aglup, sê Feliz.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;Sempre na longa e eterna vida!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-variant: small-caps;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;20 Janeiro 2005&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;" align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;Pedro Barros&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-113786487329733833?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/113786487329733833/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=113786487329733833&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113786487329733833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113786487329733833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/01/aglup.html' title='Aglup'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-113753212426521700</id><published>2006-01-17T21:01:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-17T22:32:06.176Z</updated><title type='text'>Diversos, num só!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div  style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/DSC01397.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/DSC01397.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div  style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Sentado nas margens do rio, vejo-Te chegar!&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-style: none none solid; border-color: -moz-use-text-color -moz-use-text-color windowtext; border-width: medium medium 1.5pt; padding: 0cm 0cm 1pt; font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="border: medium none ; padding: 0cm; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Tu és o remo que me orienta, que me dá força e me faz viver em Ti!&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-style: none none solid; border-color: -moz-use-text-color -moz-use-text-color windowtext; border-width: medium medium 1.5pt; padding: 0cm 0cm 1pt; font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="border: medium none ; padding: 0cm; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;Um sonolento choque das águas, anunciam a Tua chegada!&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-style: none none solid; border-color: -moz-use-text-color -moz-use-text-color windowtext; border-width: medium medium 1.5pt; padding: 0cm 0cm 1pt; font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="border: medium none ; padding: 0cm; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;O Temor a Ti faz-me mergulhar e sentir viva a tua presença - um amparo divino!&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-style: none none solid; border-color: -moz-use-text-color -moz-use-text-color windowtext; border-width: medium medium 1.5pt; padding: 0cm 0cm 1pt; font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="border: medium none ; padding: 0cm; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;O anúncio da tua chegada, o regresso do amor, a magia da tua alma, completa o meu Crer!&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-style: none none solid; border-color: -moz-use-text-color -moz-use-text-color windowtext; border-width: medium medium 1.5pt; padding: 0cm 0cm 1pt; font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="border: medium none ; padding: 0cm; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;Senhor, Tu que me guias e me orientas, pelos teus sinais. Sinais ínfimos de pura beleza. Deixa-me contemplar a teu lado a obra maravilhosa que criaste!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-style: none none solid; border-color: -moz-use-text-color -moz-use-text-color windowtext; border-width: medium medium 1.5pt; padding: 0cm 0cm 1pt; font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="border: medium none ; padding: 0cm; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;O eco das Tuas palavras conduz a distintas ondas, ondas de longa distância vividas na essência da Tua paixão!&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-style: none none solid; border-color: -moz-use-text-color -moz-use-text-color windowtext; border-width: medium medium 1.5pt; padding: 0cm 0cm 1pt; font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="border: medium none ; padding: 0cm; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;Um olhar sobre o mar, O mar das missões. Que bom navegar, Num rio de contemplações.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-style: none none solid; border-color: -moz-use-text-color -moz-use-text-color windowtext; border-width: medium medium 1.5pt; padding: 0cm 0cm 1pt; font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="border: medium none ; padding: 0cm; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;Um olhar interior te faz voar mais longe, a sentir o amor duma chama que urge, a Fé!&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-style: none none solid; border-color: -moz-use-text-color -moz-use-text-color windowtext; border-width: medium medium 1.5pt; padding: 0cm 0cm 1pt; font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="border: medium none ; padding: 0cm; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;Ser samaritano do amor sentido,&lt;br /&gt; Só por si seduz, o espírito de luz.&lt;br /&gt; Que sobre candeias, nas chamas transluz&lt;br /&gt; O grado por te ter abertamente recebido.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-style: none none solid; border-color: -moz-use-text-color -moz-use-text-color windowtext; border-width: medium medium 1.5pt; padding: 0cm 0cm 1pt; font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="border: medium none ; padding: 0cm; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;No silêncio das ondas, A espuma ganha dimensão. Concebem as Tuas formas, Fruto de grande Salvação!&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-style: none none solid; border-color: -moz-use-text-color -moz-use-text-color windowtext; border-width: medium medium 1.5pt; padding: 0cm 0cm 1pt; font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="border: medium none ; padding: 0cm; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;O ónus que te leva ao fundo do mar, É o mesmo que te faz crescer, voar&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;e trilhar os passos para um (re)encontro com Deus.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-style: none none solid; border-color: -moz-use-text-color -moz-use-text-color windowtext; border-width: medium medium 1.5pt; padding: 0cm 0cm 1pt; font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p  style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não deixaste nenhum ramo partido&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p  style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Nem injuriaste o mais tímido,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p  style="color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Serviste a Ele, Deus do Amor,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="border: medium none ; padding: 0cm; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Em que tu demandaste o seu Louvor!&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-style: none none solid; border-color: -moz-use-text-color -moz-use-text-color windowtext; border-width: medium medium 1.5pt; padding: 0cm 0cm 1pt; font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="border: medium none ; padding: 0cm; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Incansável o rebanho,&lt;br /&gt; Que se deixa cultivar.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="EN"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Iluminado pelo Pastor, Tu!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-style: none none solid; border-color: -moz-use-text-color -moz-use-text-color windowtext; border-width: medium medium 1.5pt; padding: 0cm 0cm 1pt; font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="border: medium none ; padding: 0cm; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Se O precisas de encontrar,&lt;br /&gt; Pára e sente-o, Ele está em Ti.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-style: none none solid; border-color: -moz-use-text-color -moz-use-text-color windowtext; border-width: medium medium 1.5pt; padding: 0cm 0cm 1pt; font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p  style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 0); text-align: center;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p style="font-family: arial; font-weight: normal;"&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-113753212426521700?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/113753212426521700/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=113753212426521700&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113753212426521700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113753212426521700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/01/diversos-num-s.html' title='Diversos, num só!'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-113710961750947713</id><published>2006-01-12T23:44:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-12T23:46:57.520Z</updated><title type='text'>imensidão da pessoa</title><content type='html'>imensidão da pessoa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ser volátil, &lt;br /&gt;a efémera vida,&lt;br /&gt;um momento distanciado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ser presente,&lt;br /&gt;embrulho alegre,&lt;br /&gt;que aumenta o sorriso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ser fogo,&lt;br /&gt;brilhar na escuridão,&lt;br /&gt;na fugaz longitude da multidão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ser presença,&lt;br /&gt;de olhares indiscretros,&lt;br /&gt;em visões mundanas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ser chama,&lt;br /&gt;quando a luz se perde,&lt;br /&gt;e ser vela para renascer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ser pessoa,&lt;br /&gt;para dar-me,&lt;br /&gt;como flor que desplota.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ser árvore,&lt;br /&gt;desmembrar ramos&lt;br /&gt;de entusiasmo para outros.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ser criação,&lt;br /&gt;dar vida ao mundo,&lt;br /&gt;nesta dificil situação.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ser amigo,&lt;br /&gt;porque sinto&lt;br /&gt;que sou feliz assim.&lt;br /&gt; ser amigo,&lt;br /&gt;porque me dou&lt;br /&gt;a quem fica bem.&lt;br /&gt;ser amigo,&lt;br /&gt;sem interesses&lt;br /&gt;num mundo irreal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ser amigo,&lt;br /&gt;gesto puro de amor&lt;br /&gt;de fraternidade e de irmandade&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-113710961750947713?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/113710961750947713/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=113710961750947713&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113710961750947713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113710961750947713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/01/imensido-da-pessoa.html' title='imensidão da pessoa'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-113674526792116780</id><published>2006-01-08T18:33:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-08T18:34:27.946Z</updated><title type='text'>Acasos e Acasos!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Acasos e Acasos!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Enquanto acendo as velas,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Sinto o calor da chama a chegar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Enquanto coloco-as pausadamente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Sinto a noite ganhar contorno.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Durante a limpia luz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Que transforma as trevas em paraiso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Durante a sua virilidade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Vejo aconchegar o frio que vai aquecendo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Tantos raios solares&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Que invadem e incorporam o eu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Tantos reflexos mágicos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Do querer simplesmente ser eu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Semblante o ar puro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Das sombras que largas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Semblante a forma que constróis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;E dos espaços vazios que eliminas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Pranto colorido que sorri&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Para ti, e para todos os demais.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Pranto que deleita o olhar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Sobre lagos, lagos de sinais. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-113674526792116780?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/113674526792116780/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=113674526792116780&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113674526792116780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113674526792116780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/01/acasos-e-acasos.html' title='Acasos e Acasos!'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-113632079816443242</id><published>2006-01-03T20:09:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-03T20:39:58.176Z</updated><title type='text'>Ser luz do Mundo!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1455.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/100_1455.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ser luz,&lt;br /&gt;É chama acesa.&lt;br /&gt;Ter uma alegria no mundo.&lt;br /&gt;Quem se refugia na escuridão&lt;br /&gt;Jamais vê a maravilha&lt;br /&gt;Deu um pequeno coração na imensidão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ser luz,&lt;br /&gt;É poder viver&lt;br /&gt;Sem querer dizer...&lt;br /&gt;Quanta tristeza se traz dentro&lt;br /&gt;De um olhar preso&lt;br /&gt;Nos pedaços (que temos) de sentimento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ser luz,&lt;br /&gt;É crescer&lt;br /&gt;Na Fé de um Cristo Vivo&lt;br /&gt;Abrir o coração à magia&lt;br /&gt;De uma grande paixão&lt;br /&gt;Que se esconde na infinita concretização.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;P.S.: Desculpem a ausência, por alguns dias, mas tive a viver grandes experiências na minha vida. Que são e foram muito frutiferas. Beijos e Abraços a todos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-113632079816443242?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/113632079816443242/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=113632079816443242&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113632079816443242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113632079816443242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2006/01/ser-luz-do-mundo.html' title='Ser luz do Mundo!'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-113486456800305532</id><published>2005-12-18T00:03:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-12-18T00:19:14.450Z</updated><title type='text'>Feliz Natal</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/feliznatal.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Os sinais são de vida pura,&lt;br /&gt;Aquele que chega,&lt;br /&gt;Traz com ele,&lt;br /&gt;A salvação do mundo.&lt;br /&gt;Uma viva criação&lt;br /&gt;Que nos reúne,&lt;br /&gt;E deveria fazer pensar&lt;br /&gt;Neste nosso coração&lt;br /&gt;O amor, a paixão.&lt;br /&gt;Ele que veio e continua&lt;br /&gt;A trazer a salvação do mundo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trilhando caminhos, conta cada passo que dás.&lt;br /&gt; Que eles sejam os teus amigos numa alusão à paz.&lt;br /&gt;Não te incomodes com o vento.&lt;br /&gt;Ele traz a boa nova, de uma longa espera. a esperança.&lt;br /&gt;Vê em ti o sabor da paixão;&lt;br /&gt;este sofrimento que te diz: dá o teu coração!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Feliz natal a todos os bloggers,&lt;br /&gt;e especialmente às&lt;br /&gt;pessoas que passam por este espaço,&lt;br /&gt;que é meu cantinho de amor e dedicação.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;SANTO NATAL!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-113486456800305532?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/113486456800305532/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=113486456800305532&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113486456800305532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113486456800305532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/12/feliz-natal.html' title='Feliz Natal'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-113486309768365993</id><published>2005-12-17T23:44:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-12-17T23:44:57.726Z</updated><title type='text'>A chegar</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;A chegar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Há ausências, que em nós, fazem chorar,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Derramar lágrimas de puro constrangimento.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Imaginar que somos nós, cheios de sentimento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;As pessoas que mais fazem para voar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Já nem chega o azul do mar,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Nem o branco divinizado do céu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Para que deixem de pensar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Que a vingança é a arma fiel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Saber perceber que as atitudes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;São voluntárias de coração&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;E que não são mortes à comunhão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Das tristes e fracas amizades.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Um chegar que nos faz reflectir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Mas a quem? A todos..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Os que são tristes, e só pensam &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Que os outros só o fazem por desforra.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Erróneos andam eles… Vácuos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-113486309768365993?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/113486309768365993/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=113486309768365993&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113486309768365993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113486309768365993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/12/chegar.html' title='A chegar'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-113430742175701085</id><published>2005-12-11T13:22:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-12-11T13:23:41.770Z</updated><title type='text'>Existe uma razão.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Eu vou seguindo o caminho, nesta estrada,&lt;br /&gt;Rodeada de árvores, que nascem e morrem,&lt;br /&gt;Continuando, vejo pedaços de luz,&lt;br /&gt;Intensos raios de luz.&lt;br /&gt;Que pelas árvores, ressuscitam a força&lt;br /&gt;Que estas têm, a sua vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entro adentro na floresta,&lt;br /&gt;São muitos os sons que caem&lt;br /&gt;Nestes ouvidos, o cantarolar dos pássaros&lt;br /&gt;Ou o sussurrar dos ruídos mais estranhos.&lt;br /&gt;Pisando as folhas secas, pedaços de&lt;br /&gt;Natureza, viva e morta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Existe uma razão, para este caminho&lt;br /&gt;Verdejante de sentidos, medos e sentimentos&lt;br /&gt;Um ver sem invasões algumas&lt;br /&gt;Apenas o devorar do escutar, e sentir.&lt;br /&gt;Sentir o cheiro, humm de eucalipto,&lt;br /&gt;Uma limpeza oxigenada à vida.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-113430742175701085?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/113430742175701085/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=113430742175701085&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113430742175701085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113430742175701085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/12/existe-uma-razo.html' title='Existe uma razão.'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-113391705518627621</id><published>2005-12-07T00:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-12-07T00:57:35.196Z</updated><title type='text'>Vem construir pontes...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_0693.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/100_0693.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Vem construir pontes,&lt;br /&gt;Vem diminuir distâncias,&lt;br /&gt;Vem saborear o tempo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Serves-te das pontes&lt;br /&gt;Como elos de ligação&lt;br /&gt;À fortaleza das relações.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mostras-te contente&lt;br /&gt;Nas atitudes vivas&lt;br /&gt;Do corpo que se sente!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passear-te nos meus ombros&lt;br /&gt;Símbolo da minha alegria&lt;br /&gt;Dá-me cada dia, um sorriso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sentir-te presente no pensamento&lt;br /&gt;Revigora a minha alma&lt;br /&gt;E faz crescer o meu desejo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desejar-te mais que tudo&lt;br /&gt;Saborear-te nessa comunhão&lt;br /&gt;Dá-me coragem de não cair em vão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vem abraçar as pontes,&lt;br /&gt;Vem escolher caminhos,&lt;br /&gt;Vem aproveitar cada segundo.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-113391705518627621?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/113391705518627621/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=113391705518627621&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113391705518627621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113391705518627621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/12/vem-construir-pontes.html' title='Vem construir pontes...'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-113373270792161990</id><published>2005-12-04T21:44:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-12-04T21:45:07.936Z</updated><title type='text'>Chuva de espírito!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chuva de espírito que paira sobre nós&lt;br /&gt;Deixa cair, chegar… deixa o teu mar.&lt;br /&gt;Chuva de espírito que vive sobre nós&lt;br /&gt;Deixa o tempo mudar… deixa a tua alma entrar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caminhando sem rédeas, nem direcções&lt;br /&gt;Deixa o coração abrir-se ao chegar!&lt;br /&gt;Caminhando sem cordas, nem passos&lt;br /&gt;Deixa a luz voar… deixa brilhar sobre ti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chuva de espírito mostra a tua face&lt;br /&gt;Invade os pobres de consciência, e fá-los acreditar&lt;br /&gt;Na chuva de espírito que vem para se apresentar&lt;br /&gt;Invadindo o corpo e a mente da tua semente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sonhando por tomar uma face melhor&lt;br /&gt;Deixa os ambíguos lugares escondidos!&lt;br /&gt;Sonhando pode-se vivificar um querer e amor&lt;br /&gt;Que nos deixe espalhar pelo mundo, cheio de mundos!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-113373270792161990?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/113373270792161990/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=113373270792161990&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113373270792161990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113373270792161990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/12/chuva-de-esprito.html' title='Chuva de espírito!'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-113364701610369208</id><published>2005-12-03T21:54:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-12-03T21:56:56.126Z</updated><title type='text'>Na tua palavra.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/marcador_umsorriso.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 201px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="320" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/marcador_umsorriso.jpg" width="123" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Na tua palavra,&lt;br /&gt;Eu ficarei&lt;br /&gt;Sem pedaços&lt;br /&gt;Perdidos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na tua voz,&lt;br /&gt;Eu escutarei&lt;br /&gt;O meu interior&lt;br /&gt;Escondido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na tua semente&lt;br /&gt;Eu colherei&lt;br /&gt;Os frutos&lt;br /&gt;Dos momentos&lt;br /&gt;Esquecidos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na tua viagem&lt;br /&gt;Me chamas&lt;br /&gt;E convidas&lt;br /&gt;O olhar&lt;br /&gt;Para a miragem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na tua acção divina&lt;br /&gt;Eu vejo&lt;br /&gt;Tantos actos&lt;br /&gt;Vivos dos&lt;br /&gt;Fiéis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na tua paixão&lt;br /&gt;Eu senti&lt;br /&gt;Grande dádiva&lt;br /&gt;Do Amor&lt;br /&gt;Construtivo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-113364701610369208?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/113364701610369208/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=113364701610369208&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113364701610369208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113364701610369208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/12/na-tua-palavra.html' title='Na tua palavra.'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-113338311097529888</id><published>2005-11-30T20:12:00.001Z</published><updated>2005-11-30T20:38:30.993Z</updated><title type='text'>Estou por aqui</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/DSCF9103.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/DSCF9103.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;Estou por aqui&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Estou por aqui,&lt;br /&gt;Estou sem sentido,&lt;br /&gt;E vou,&lt;br /&gt;Para espaços longínquos.&lt;br /&gt;Fortes os momentos&lt;br /&gt;Distantes da minha casa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sei, que aqui,&lt;br /&gt;Estarei sempre,&lt;br /&gt;Mais perto que longe,&lt;br /&gt;O Amor da asa voa,&lt;br /&gt;Sei que ali chegarei,&lt;br /&gt;Em pedaços de mim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Correrei, na beira&lt;br /&gt;Das margens do rio&lt;br /&gt;Que na conduta&lt;br /&gt;Me levam ali&lt;br /&gt;Júbilo do meu sentir,&lt;br /&gt;Júbilo do meu querer,&lt;br /&gt;Sonhos do meu ser!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haverá ventos,&lt;br /&gt;Que sementes plantarão&lt;br /&gt;No terreno humano,&lt;br /&gt;Pobre de alma,&lt;br /&gt;Onde jaz espírito,&lt;br /&gt;Um encantamento celestial.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-113338311097529888?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/113338311097529888/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=113338311097529888&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113338311097529888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113338311097529888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/11/estou-por-aqui_30.html' title='Estou por aqui'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-113287123116570836</id><published>2005-11-24T22:07:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-11-24T22:27:11.176Z</updated><title type='text'>Nas imagens…</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_0639.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/100_0639.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;"&gt;:realizado por mim:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nas imagens interrogamo-nos&lt;br /&gt;Se o sentido da visão&lt;br /&gt;Transmite grande sensação&lt;br /&gt;Quem sabe paixão.&lt;br /&gt;Um olhar focado num ponto&lt;br /&gt;Da destreza do sonho&lt;br /&gt;E do bom caminhar.&lt;br /&gt;Nas imagens questionamo-nos&lt;br /&gt;Se o dom do querer&lt;br /&gt;É tão forte como o dom do saber,&lt;br /&gt;Partindo do dar para o concretizar,&lt;br /&gt;Um grande lema a verificar.&lt;br /&gt;Daremos perspectivas de&lt;br /&gt;Um justo imaginar e,&lt;br /&gt;Conduzir um grande adorar&lt;br /&gt;Do louvor ao amar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nas imagens veremos&lt;br /&gt;Retratos de pessoas escondidas&lt;br /&gt;Obscuras no dia, e invisíveis na noite.&lt;br /&gt;Retratos de objectos desprotegidos&lt;br /&gt;Cheios de sofrimento por terem sido&lt;br /&gt;Largados junto às esquinas da vida.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-113287123116570836?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/113287123116570836/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=113287123116570836&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113287123116570836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113287123116570836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/11/nas-imagens.html' title='Nas imagens…'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-113243013604281827</id><published>2005-11-19T19:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-11-19T19:55:36.096Z</updated><title type='text'>Viemos</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;O Surgimento da Fé, Resultado de Uma grande Transformação Divina!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;(image placeholder)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;“Eu, os Outros e o Grupo”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Este tema, que muito tem a retratar, eleva-se numa questão fundamental, que é a própria beleza, a beleza do ser, a beleza de viver para os outros, a beleza da entrega do Homem. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;As palavras que me saíam, os pensamentos que emitia quando falava sobre este assunto, conduziam-me a algo muito concreto, um concreto que me absorve e acompanha. Este concreto, chamo-o de Fé! E senti especial alegria, quando debatia este tema, porque não existe prova maior desta relação mútua, aquando da entrega de Jesus Cristo por nós, para nossa salvação. Uma relação Divina, em que acredito, e a transmito com enorme entusiasmo aos que ainda se sentem adormecidos… &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Na minha reflexão pessoal, nunca antes tinha encarado essa Entrega como resultado de uma relação, mas agora… experimento-a! Eu não vim, para ser para mim, vim para ser para os outros. Vim porque tenho algo de bom para dar, para oferecer. Dons.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;Animahap&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;Viemos para junto de ti, Senhor,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;Aclamar o teu amor, e Louvar-te.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;Animahap, Animahap,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;Viemos para seguir-te, Senhor,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;Exaltar a tua e Testemunhar-te.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;Animahap, Animahap,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;Viemos para dizer-te sim, Senhor,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;Juntos queremos partilhar-te.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;Animahap, Animahap,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;Viemos para espalhar, Senhor,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;Trilhar os caminhos e Anunciar-te.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;Animahap, Animahap,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;Viemos para crescermos, Senhor,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;E na Fé, Comungar-te!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;Animahap, Animahap,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;Vivemos para ti, Senhor,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;Só assim seremos Felizes!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;Só assim seremos Vivos!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;"&gt;Só assim somos&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Pessoa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br/&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-113243013604281827?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/113243013604281827/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=113243013604281827&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113243013604281827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113243013604281827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/11/viemos.html' title='Viemos'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-113208963437474597</id><published>2005-11-15T21:20:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-11-15T21:20:34.440Z</updated><title type='text'>Escutando palpitações</title><content type='html'>Escutando palpitações&lt;br/&gt;Elevamos os corações&lt;br/&gt;Às mágicas situações &lt;br/&gt;Que remam as nações.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;O dom das palavras,&lt;br/&gt;O prazer do saborear,&lt;br/&gt;Para poder refrescar,&lt;br/&gt;Na Menta que chega do ar.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Sons que perscrutam&lt;br/&gt;Asas que voam&lt;br/&gt;E cintilam&lt;br/&gt;Pelos que andam.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Que encontram caminhos&lt;br/&gt;Salvam pessoas perdidas&lt;br/&gt;E não fogem sozinhos&lt;br/&gt;Dos amigos, nas partidas.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-113208963437474597?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/113208963437474597/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=113208963437474597&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113208963437474597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113208963437474597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/11/escutando-palpitaes.html' title='Escutando palpitações'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-113201757737939545</id><published>2005-11-15T01:17:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-11-15T01:19:37.390Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/shapes%20of%20world.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/shapes%20of%20world.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foi Domingo, foi um grande dia, um dia de Graça, um dia que finalizava a semana dos Seminários. Uma importante semana, especialmente para todos os seminaristas do Mundo. O seminário é por excelência uma casa acolhedora e formativa, uma verdadeira aprendizagem que jaz no cerne espiritual, que cultiva e que dá a conhecer o Senhor de todos os Homens. Um Senhor que plantou, enraizou e incrementa pela força do Espírito Santo. Para que sejamos sempre, fruto do seu cultivo e semeador das suas palavras. Uma construção permanente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Com alegria vi, o Amor que duas pessoas dedicam a este Senhor, Senhor que me guia e me orienta, pelos seus sinais. Sinais ínfimos de algo tão concreto para mim... e tão discreto para outros. Que eles sejam continuadores da tua obra, nisso creio. Eles não têm medo... e não tiveram medo. E eu? Prossigo sem medo…porque ele me chama e continua a chamar, a vela mantém-se acesa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Não tenhais medo..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um dia de Graça...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-113201757737939545?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/113201757737939545/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=113201757737939545&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113201757737939545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113201757737939545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/11/foi-domingo-foi-um-grande-dia-um-dia.html' title=''/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-113166831429386757</id><published>2005-11-11T00:18:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-11-11T00:18:34.356Z</updated><title type='text'>E tu? Que irás responder?</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;E tu? Que irás responder?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Hoje, como tantos outros dias, interrogo-me sobre um verdadeiro sentido para a minha vida. Um sentido que aqueça a alma e o coração, que me dê forças e me alimente no Espírito Santo. Um sentir que ultrapassa muitos pensar. Um querer que não é só meu. Um fazer que cresce, e dará frutos. Um amar que aumenta os instantes ínfimos das etapas da minha vida. Um imaginar ser do meu caminho, prolongado, e breve como o dia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Existe um confronto dentro de mim, um confronto entre o actual e o futuro, o querer já e o esperar para ser. Uma longa batalha, que me toma nos momentos tristes, e me consome nos instantes de reflexão. O esperar para ser situa-se entre o Amor e o Serviço - um Amor de esperança e pura verdade, e um Serviço para os outros através de Deus. Um amor que não mede, um amor que vive, um amor sentido e eterno. Um serviço para as necessidades, para as ausências, para o esquecimento, rejuvenescendo e incrementando o próximo do que é esse Amor – um Amor vivo em mim, e sonolento no outro. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Uma dimensão real e divina me chama a responder a este “E Tu?”. Isto não se torna uma pequena interrogação mas uma grande interpelação. Algo que agita em mim, a visão da minha vida no futuro. Algo que me conduz sem guiar, onde me leva onde Ele quiser, fazendo e permanecendo na sua vontade! E eu, continuo esperançoso de seguir os sinais reais de um chamamento divino que me leva, que me guia&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;e que me conduz para a partilha e para a grande alegria. Ser testemunho.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-113166831429386757?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/113166831429386757/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=113166831429386757&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113166831429386757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113166831429386757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/11/e-tu-que-irs-responder.html' title='E tu? Que irás responder?'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-113101214602999381</id><published>2005-11-03T09:50:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-11-03T23:21:12.363Z</updated><title type='text'>Gotas de Orvalho</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/Sem%20t%3F%3Ftulo.3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/Sem%20t%3F%3Ftulo.3.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/Sem%20t??tulo.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/Sem%20t??tulo.jpg" align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Gotas de orvalho caem &lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/Sem%20t??tulo.jpg" align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Nos passeios movediços &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Onde deambulam&lt;br /&gt;Novos e velhos sitos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;São gotas de orvalho&lt;br /&gt;Que nos fazem proteger&lt;br /&gt;De uma lira conducente&lt;br /&gt;Numa paisagem húmida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As gotas de orvalho&lt;br /&gt;Adormecem-nos pausadamente&lt;br /&gt;No aconchego do silêncio&lt;br /&gt;Em uníssono com o tempo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gotas de orvalho que&lt;br /&gt;Percorrendo distâncias&lt;br /&gt;Alcançam infinitas metas&lt;br /&gt;Do Ser e do Sem Fim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nestas gotas de orvalho&lt;br /&gt;O relento reduz-nos a um,&lt;br /&gt;Um só imaginário da época&lt;br /&gt;Um só olhar recluso da vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gotas de orvalho caem,&lt;br /&gt;Protestando com todos&lt;br /&gt;Na sua insolente caída&lt;br /&gt;De navegações extraviadas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Imagem retirada de http://www.oleschmitt.com.br&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-113101214602999381?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/113101214602999381/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=113101214602999381&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113101214602999381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113101214602999381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/11/gotas-de-orvalho.html' title='Gotas de Orvalho'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-113080279228709652</id><published>2005-10-31T23:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-10-31T23:53:12.340Z</updated><title type='text'>O eco das tuas palavras!</title><content type='html'>O eco das tuas palavras&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;O eco das tuas palavras,&lt;br/&gt;Mostra sentimentos e alegrias&lt;br/&gt;De um rosto bonito&lt;br/&gt;Teu, característico.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;O eco das tuas palavras,&lt;br/&gt;Levam-me a diversas ondas&lt;br/&gt;De longa distância,&lt;br/&gt;Vividas na essência.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;O eco das tuas palavras,&lt;br/&gt;Molda-me à tua serenidade&lt;br/&gt;E conduzem-me à verdade&lt;br/&gt;Em que voas e mostras.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;O eco das tuas palavras&lt;br/&gt;Aconchega-me no coração,&lt;br/&gt;Por partilhar pedaços de mim&lt;br/&gt;No espaço que me reservas&lt;br/&gt;Para que eu sinta a tua emoção&lt;br/&gt;No vocábulos que soletras.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;O eco das tuas palavras é&lt;br/&gt;Muito mais que um eco,&lt;br/&gt;É uma amizade carinhosa&lt;br/&gt;Que preservo em mim.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;(Dedicado a uma pessoa especial, Ana Laura)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-113080279228709652?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/113080279228709652/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=113080279228709652&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113080279228709652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113080279228709652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/10/o-eco-das-tuas-palavras.html' title='O eco das tuas palavras!'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-113060511139399254</id><published>2005-10-29T17:58:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-10-29T17:58:31.440+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Apelo sôfrego</title><content type='html'>&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;font-size:85%;"&gt;Apelo sôfrego&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;font-size:85%;"&gt;Sons profundos que viabilizam uma pobreza pura e realista,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;font-size:85%;"&gt;Ressaltam ecos de histórias ocidentalmente fantasiadas,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;font-size:85%;"&gt;Ritmadas na velocidade e ferocidade da conquista&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;font-size:85%;"&gt;Entristecidos numa contusão transformada em mágoas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;font-size:85%;"&gt;Sãos, os poucos que mexem as correntes do coração&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;font-size:85%;"&gt;Um gnosticismo frontal, talvez evaporado pelo não,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;font-size:85%;"&gt;Um senão do viver, que deixou de ser comunhão,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;font-size:85%;"&gt;E semear em função da missão que tem cada mão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;font-size:85%;"&gt;Sofrendo peripécias que conduzem a uma inércia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;font-size:85%;"&gt;Sentimentalista na compreensão e imaginação&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;font-size:85%;"&gt;Do que o corpo reflecte a cada inexperiência &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gill Sans MT;font-size:85%;"&gt;Esquecida e perdida, num alento de libertação.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt; &lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-113060511139399254?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/113060511139399254/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=113060511139399254&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113060511139399254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113060511139399254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/10/apelo-sfrego.html' title='Apelo sôfrego'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-113006817646576443</id><published>2005-10-23T12:13:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-10-23T12:49:38.690+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Dia Mundial das Missões</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/IMG_1607.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/IMG_1607.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Um olhar sobre o mar....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um olhar sobre o mar&lt;br /&gt;O mar das missões.&lt;br /&gt;Que bom navegar&lt;br /&gt;Num rio de emoções.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um olhar sobre a terra&lt;br /&gt;Na perpétua e infinita saudade.&lt;br /&gt;Do cume da alta serra&lt;br /&gt;Uma Paixão de eternidade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um olhar sobre vocês&lt;br /&gt;Me fez crescer, e dizer sim.&lt;br /&gt;Aumentando em mim&lt;br /&gt;Os tantos porquês!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um olhar interior&lt;br /&gt;Faz voar mais longe&lt;br /&gt;O sentir do amor&lt;br /&gt;Numa chama que urge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um olhar sobre a minha missão...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-113006817646576443?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/113006817646576443/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=113006817646576443&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113006817646576443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/113006817646576443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/10/dia-mundial-das-misses.html' title='Dia Mundial das Missões'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-112881619497600212</id><published>2005-10-09T01:03:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-10-09T01:29:55.750+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Olhar para mim</title><content type='html'>Olhar para mim..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/DSCF9088.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/200/DSCF9088.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Poderia dizer que as minhas dúvidas&lt;br /&gt;são o meu sofrimento,&lt;br /&gt;mas sofro mais com as minhas certezas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/DSCF9092.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/DSCF9092.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/DSCF9092.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/200/DSCF9092.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poderia rir e viver, sem me lembrar&lt;br /&gt;destas angústias que tenho,&lt;br /&gt;por ter medo de enfrentar&lt;br /&gt;o meu próprio querer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/DSCF9090.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 198px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 152px" height="87" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/200/DSCF9090.jpg" width="143" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poderia acordar amanhã&lt;br /&gt;consciente do salto a dar,&lt;br /&gt;mas choro em pedaços de lã&lt;br /&gt;este rosto triste de estimar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/DSCF9696.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/200/DSCF9696.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poderei avançar e sentir-me feliz,&lt;br /&gt;e com firmeza estar grato por mim&lt;br /&gt;por uma decisão que ao ouvido diz&lt;br /&gt;para seguir o aroma do jasmim.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-112881619497600212?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/112881619497600212/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=112881619497600212&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112881619497600212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112881619497600212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/10/olhar-para-mim.html' title='Olhar para mim'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-112873162192875571</id><published>2005-10-08T01:22:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-10-08T01:33:41.936+01:00</updated><title type='text'>As pegadas do meu destino</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_06931.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/100_06931.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Nos escuros passos que me proferireis.&lt;br /&gt;Os sinais em mim, são mais que as leis&lt;br /&gt;Temendo os próprios pensares meus&lt;br /&gt;Fecho-me nestes lugares tão meus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chegaríeis perto de mim, dizendo o porquê&lt;br /&gt;Do meu sentido de estar longe, para quê?&lt;br /&gt;Escutando as sonoras palavras dúbias,&lt;br /&gt;Levantareis essas imagens longínquas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Umas fugas interpretantes no meu pensar,&lt;br /&gt;Redunda o sentido de ver o além-mar.&lt;br /&gt;Concluireis ideias erróneas no meu agir&lt;br /&gt;Ao quererem-me ver aqui, e não a partir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se ao menos andasse sem ter que mostrar&lt;br /&gt;As pegadas do meu destino, feliz ou infeliz&lt;br /&gt;Sem ter que gritar cá dentro, quero amar,&lt;br /&gt;E no escrever beneficiar do meu quis.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-112873162192875571?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/112873162192875571/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=112873162192875571&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112873162192875571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112873162192875571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/10/as-pegadas-do-meu-destino.html' title='As pegadas do meu destino'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-112829376532926429</id><published>2005-10-02T23:45:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-10-02T23:56:05.336+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tens tanto para me dizer…</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_04211.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/100_04211.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ser samaritano do amor sentido,&lt;br /&gt;Só por si seduz, o espírito de luz.&lt;br /&gt;Sobre candeias, nas chamas transluz&lt;br /&gt;O grado por te ter percebido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esse encosto reconfortante algo me diz&lt;br /&gt;Nos meus sonhos, nas minhas histórias&lt;br /&gt;Para lá de uma vida feliz,&lt;br /&gt;Os ramos secos de ironias.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tens tanto para me dizer&lt;br /&gt;Já nem chega o longe,&lt;br /&gt;Já nem chega o perto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As almas reflectem o que dizem,&lt;br /&gt;Esses olhares, no rio escondidos,&lt;br /&gt;Que choram e, transformam istmos&lt;br /&gt;Das lágrimas que deitas, procurando o além.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tens tanto para me dizer&lt;br /&gt;A diferença acanha&lt;br /&gt;A diferença cresce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tens tanto para me dizer&lt;br /&gt;Tens tanto para me falar&lt;br /&gt;E tens tanto para me mostrar&lt;br /&gt;Que comigo trago o anseio de te escutar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tens tanto para me dar&lt;br /&gt;E eu tão pouco para oferecer.&lt;br /&gt;Tens tanto para me consagrar&lt;br /&gt;Da gota que me faz crer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tenho tanto para aprender…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-112829376532926429?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/112829376532926429/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=112829376532926429&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112829376532926429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112829376532926429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/10/tens-tanto-para-me-dizer.html' title='Tens tanto para me dizer…'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-112821927433852531</id><published>2005-10-02T03:06:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-10-02T03:14:34.346+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Reflectis</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1174.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/100_1174.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Fui lascando arestas de um princípio sem fim,&lt;br /&gt;Mais do que querer ser, quero sentir, viver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fui, e vou buscando em mim algo para me dizer,&lt;br /&gt;Donde vim?, e tombei, sempre por aqui, só e em mim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Já dissertei vozes incomodativas do meu andar,&lt;br /&gt;Cobrindo ventos, acomodando sôfregas tempestades.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O escuro do coração não dá asas nem mãos,&lt;br /&gt;Para ao longe querer chegar e daqui partir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uma esperança, um olhar, uma ilusão?&lt;br /&gt;Os remos que farão vínculo à minha paixão.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-112821927433852531?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/112821927433852531/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=112821927433852531&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112821927433852531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112821927433852531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/10/reflectis.html' title='Reflectis'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-112750674266211080</id><published>2005-09-23T21:15:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-09-23T21:19:02.670+01:00</updated><title type='text'>aqui adormeci</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Já acordei.&lt;br /&gt;E, até agora me lembrei,&lt;br /&gt;Do que foi outrora,&lt;br /&gt;Na infeliz tristeza de vir embora.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aqui cheguei,&lt;br /&gt;E sem tardar mais, verei,&lt;br /&gt;A aurora do simples olhar&lt;br /&gt;Do que foi viajar e regressar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De longe os trarei,&lt;br /&gt;Palmitos do leve recipiente&lt;br /&gt;De que sempre amarei&lt;br /&gt;Por levar o amor ao presente!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Distâncias encurtarei,&lt;br /&gt;E Dois remos traçarei,&lt;br /&gt;Para movimentar as pontes&lt;br /&gt;Que dos ímpetos envolves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aqui ficarei&lt;br /&gt;Aos semblantes que criei,&lt;br /&gt;Para esconder neste espaço&lt;br /&gt;As tristezas deste cansaço!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sonharei&lt;br /&gt;Para mais aquém chegar&lt;br /&gt;E saber relembrar&lt;br /&gt;Quem lá deixei!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E aqui adormeci para alguém ir por aí,&lt;br /&gt;Caminhar ao encontro de si!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-112750674266211080?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/112750674266211080/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=112750674266211080&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112750674266211080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112750674266211080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/09/aqui-adormeci.html' title='aqui adormeci'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-112747764961685129</id><published>2005-09-23T13:08:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-09-23T13:14:09.623+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Indo longe</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/Pe.%20Jos??"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/Pe.%20Jos%3F%3F%20Maria%2C%20os%20novi%3F%3Fos%20e%20eu%20e%20o%20Daniel.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Há quem aguente a melancolia,&lt;br /&gt;Há quem morra de nostalgia,&lt;br /&gt;Há quem viva sem direcção,&lt;br /&gt;Haverá quem esqueça a paixão?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Houve momentos indescritíveis,&lt;br /&gt;Houve vivências insubstituíveis,&lt;br /&gt;Houve ápices de real verdade,&lt;br /&gt;Haverá lembranças dessa humanidade?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haverá amizades e chamas,&lt;br /&gt;Haverá sempre memórias,&lt;br /&gt;Haverá infinitos olhares, e&lt;br /&gt;Haverá imutáveis saudades.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-112747764961685129?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/112747764961685129/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=112747764961685129&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112747764961685129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112747764961685129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/09/indo-longe.html' title='Indo longe'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-112647727036162819</id><published>2005-09-11T23:19:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-09-11T23:21:10.366+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Ondas infinitas</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No silêncio das ondas&lt;br /&gt;A espuma ganha dimensão,&lt;br /&gt;E as imagens concebidas&lt;br /&gt;Percorrem a divina escuridão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No silêncio das ondas&lt;br /&gt;O mar foge para lá&lt;br /&gt;A quem passou por cá.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No silêncio das ondas,&lt;br /&gt;Impetuosas obras nascem,&lt;br /&gt;E na face da outra margem&lt;br /&gt;Avançam extensas pegadas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No silêncio da ondas,&lt;br /&gt;Remos partidos unir-se-ão&lt;br /&gt;Ao novo rumo do coração.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No silêncio das ondas,&lt;br /&gt;No toque das águas,&lt;br /&gt;No burburinho das gaivotas,&lt;br /&gt;Novos sorrisos apaziguas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No silêncio das ondas&lt;br /&gt;Emerge o som do coração,&lt;br /&gt;Aspirando a imaginação.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No silêncio das ondas,&lt;br /&gt;Na escuridão do luar,&lt;br /&gt;No brilho das estrelas,&lt;br /&gt;Novos rumos irão chegar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-112647727036162819?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/112647727036162819/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=112647727036162819&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112647727036162819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112647727036162819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/09/ondas-infinitas.html' title='Ondas infinitas'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-112587856609134393</id><published>2005-09-05T01:01:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-09-05T01:02:46.096+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Se precisas de chorar!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Se precisas de chorar&lt;br /&gt;Leva a lágrima até ao mar&lt;br /&gt;Porque lá ela se reencontrará&lt;br /&gt;E com liberdade te levará.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se precisas de chorar&lt;br /&gt;Não deixes de relembrar&lt;br /&gt;Os momentos de saudade&lt;br /&gt;Criados numa simples verdade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se precisas de chorar&lt;br /&gt;Observa bem cada lugar&lt;br /&gt;Que trilhas nesse deambular&lt;br /&gt;Cheio de vida para dar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se precisas de chorar&lt;br /&gt;Não tenhas medo de lutar&lt;br /&gt;Para dar a quem tudo dá&lt;br /&gt;E mais um peregrino crescerá.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se precisas de chorar&lt;br /&gt;Alcança a alma do amar&lt;br /&gt;Estende o braço e faz&lt;br /&gt;O serviço da paz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se precisas de chorar&lt;br /&gt;Para as saudades matar&lt;br /&gt;Lacrimeja nessa escuridão&lt;br /&gt;O amor que deste à tua missão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-112587856609134393?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/112587856609134393/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=112587856609134393&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112587856609134393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112587856609134393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/09/se-precisas-de-chorar.html' title='Se precisas de chorar!'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-112560513531646710</id><published>2005-09-01T20:47:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-09-01T21:07:06.550+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tantos ou tão poucos dias...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/DSCF8371.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/DSCF8371.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Tantos ou tão poucos dias&lt;br /&gt;Para guardar memórias de África.&lt;br /&gt;Servir, pelo Espírito Santo, Viva&lt;br /&gt;Que Alegria, Só maravilhas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moçambique, País Missionário,&lt;br /&gt;Sabor a ti, trago dentro de mim.&lt;br /&gt;Júbilo crescente desta tua&lt;br /&gt;Semelhança caminhante, Pais sábio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brotar sorrisos, nessas flores que abrem,&lt;br /&gt;Um aroma surpreendente por tempos longínquos,&lt;br /&gt;Vigiando os saberes incutidos&lt;br /&gt;Pleno de culturas e tradições!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ò Moçambique, terra da minha missão&lt;br /&gt;Dá-me a alegria de ser como&lt;br /&gt;Um irmão, Porque quero sentir&lt;br /&gt;Esse amor com que me recebes&lt;br /&gt;E partilhá-lo contigo…&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;(criado a 5 de Agosto 05)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-112560513531646710?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/112560513531646710/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=112560513531646710&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112560513531646710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112560513531646710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/09/tantos-ou-to-poucos-dias.html' title='Tantos ou tão poucos dias...'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-112542857767420677</id><published>2005-08-30T19:56:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-08-30T20:02:57.680+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Puros olhares</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/DSCF9406.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/DSCF9406.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Quis reavivar a experiência e partir,&lt;br /&gt;Meditar sobre a vida e reflectir,&lt;br /&gt;Fui para longe e vi, como seria o ir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quis deleitar-me no olhar&lt;br /&gt;De um povo magnífico no seu obrar.&lt;br /&gt;Gozar o semblante e apreciar&lt;br /&gt;A pura gentileza do seu caminhar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quis percorrer pedaços de imaginação,&lt;br /&gt;E ver quão maravilhosa é a dedicação,&lt;br /&gt;Da gente que labuta para ter um pão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quis examinar cada paixão,&lt;br /&gt;Os puros olhares que encontrava&lt;br /&gt;E Vi nas suas caras uma razão&lt;br /&gt;Para levar a vida em missão. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-112542857767420677?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/112542857767420677/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=112542857767420677&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112542857767420677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112542857767420677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/08/puros-olhares.html' title='Puros olhares'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-112523056008161885</id><published>2005-08-28T12:58:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-08-28T13:02:40.083+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/DSCF8271.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/DSCF8271.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;No oratório na Namaacha!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Foi sem mais, uma alegria feliz, o simbolo da paixão&lt;br /&gt;Uma cria contente da sua mistica e sua ilusão&lt;br /&gt;Quero explorar o pouco do que tenho e voar,&lt;br /&gt;Dar sentido aos rumos que me fazem chegar.&lt;br /&gt;Chegar onde alcançar,e viver o mar,&lt;br /&gt;Que pela sua imensidão me mostrou mais,&lt;br /&gt;Mais do que algum dia esperava e espero encontrar.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-112523056008161885?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/112523056008161885/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=112523056008161885&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112523056008161885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112523056008161885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/08/no-oratrio-na-namaacha-foi-sem-mais.html' title=''/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-112523020833132178</id><published>2005-08-28T12:56:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-08-28T12:56:48.336+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;A luz que vem até ti…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aqui estou, mais uma vez em missão, na escuridão, luzindo apenas à chama da vela.&lt;br /&gt;Que propositadamente coloquei para me aconchegar, nestes momentos que retiro para meditar sobre mim e sobre tudo o que por Ele passo nestes dias de solidariedade com pessoas, jovens e crianças como eu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Muito é o que se sente aqui dentro, quase incomparável com aquilo que conseguimos dizer… as letras vão formando as palavras, idolatradas por espaços que numa frase constroem o diário da minha vida, por uns dias, uns meses…, e quem sabe pela eternidade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Num refúgio escondido, em mim, são tantas as emoções vividas em terras africanas. O pisar e caminhar sobre esta terra vermelha dá-me tanto prazer…que a vontade de andar descalço e sentir o seu calor conjuga-se numa grande nostalgia. Já nem interessa o pó, nem a roupa suja, nem a cara, o corpo… vermelho!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O dia amanhece, esquecendo o escuro do despertar, e a sonolência de um acordar. Acompanha na oração o rebentar do sol, que do seu esconderijo ressurge para dar visão aos que longas caminhadas matinais percorrem para guiar o rosto moçambicano no seu dia-a-dia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deixando as preocupações (perdidas num embarque) de lado, parto para o meu serviço, para o meu testemunho, para a minha missão, levando no meu espírito a partilha que    levo para dar aos outros corações, e através dele reencaminhar esta grande paixão… o amar e servir os outros para além do que se vê, do que se possa falar, e do que se possa mostrar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nestes dias aconchegantes, em que esperando partilhar dos objectivos de Dom Bosco (Pai e mestre dos Jovens), olhamos para cada rosto, alegre ou triste, animando-o para que a sua alegria seja ainda maior… e que leve no seu coração, uma empatia com a libertação de contratempos e aborrecimentos, “coisas” que nos atormentam em cada dia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cada rosto, uma particularidade. Cada rosto, uma magia.&lt;br /&gt;Cada olhar, uma feliz introspecção. Um observar repleto de emoções.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É nestes olhares, nestes rostos que em cada final de dia, vejo o sol se por…. E a luz viajar até aos outros, que também necessitados, lhes incrementa o espírito de solidariedade aculturado nos sentimentos constantes do ser, como eu… e como tu!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque a luz está em ti, e por ela chego até ti….&lt;br /&gt;Porque viajando entre ondas e furacões, as metas podem alcançar-se&lt;br /&gt;Expelindo-as pelo mundo, que está triste e cego aos marcantes detalhes.&lt;br /&gt;Vai e leva, os rostos ofuscados aguardam-te como sinal do “Vamos”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                      Pedro Barros&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                      9 Agosto de 2005&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-112523020833132178?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/112523020833132178/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=112523020833132178&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112523020833132178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112523020833132178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/08/luz-que-vem-at-ti-aqui-estou-mais-uma.html' title=''/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-112220486775095609</id><published>2005-07-24T12:27:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-07-24T12:34:27.756+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Férias... Ausência</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/R002-039.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/R002-039.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/R002-016.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Olá a todos!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Espero que estejam a passar óptimos momentos neste Verão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Vou permanecer ausente durante um mês, devido à grande força que me prende a outros horizontes, outros mundos... vou em missão novamente para Moçambique, mas para um local diferente... para a Namaacha. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Com um enorme prazer que vos "abandono" por uns tempos... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Quando regressar vos presentearei com novos posts!1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Um grande abraço a todos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Pedro moza*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-112220486775095609?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/112220486775095609/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=112220486775095609&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112220486775095609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112220486775095609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/07/frias-ausncia.html' title='Férias... Ausência'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-112199059650304459</id><published>2005-07-22T00:54:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-07-22T01:03:16.510+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Mãos Quentes!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/DSC_0978-gav.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/DSC_0978-gav.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mãos quentes!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como irão aquecer as minhas mãos,&lt;br /&gt;Por ser recebido pelos meus irmãos,&lt;br /&gt;Pessoas do meu coração contente,&lt;br /&gt;Partilhando a alegria de estar presente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voando sobre mares e terras,&lt;br /&gt;O refresco das tempestades adiadas.&lt;br /&gt;Como é bom voltar às tuas obras,&lt;br /&gt;E saber que estarei feliz e de mãos dadas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O calor que sentirei pelo regressar&lt;br /&gt;A uma casa abençoada pelo semear,&lt;br /&gt;Magia reflectida desse bonito olhar,&lt;br /&gt;Que vocês dão ao simples luar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-112199059650304459?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/112199059650304459/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=112199059650304459&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112199059650304459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112199059650304459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/07/mos-quentes.html' title='Mãos Quentes!'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-112155777347140369</id><published>2005-07-17T00:48:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-07-17T00:49:33.476+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A voz do longe!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A voz do longe!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pedras meditadas reflectem a África do viver,&lt;br /&gt;Sons de águas que caem sobre fragas sentidas.&lt;br /&gt;Acalmia do ouvir essas palavras aconchegadas,&lt;br /&gt;Transmitidas por sinais e exposições do Ser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O poder das terras além do Ocidente perdido,&lt;br /&gt;Intensas surpresas na vida, ao largo da jornada.&lt;br /&gt;Penhascos e alvéolos, sombras da extasia idealizada,&lt;br /&gt;Diegeses mágicas de um momento tão sentido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O convite aos medos e às ansiedades,&lt;br /&gt;Do sentir, viver e partilhar a voz do longe.&lt;br /&gt;Forte rastreio do espírito, que sempre arroje,&lt;br /&gt;Nessa voz guiando sensíveis escutares.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tão perto do longe, um pouco mais, ali… em Ti.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-112155777347140369?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/112155777347140369/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=112155777347140369&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112155777347140369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112155777347140369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/07/voz-do-longe.html' title='A voz do longe!'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-112135214510854746</id><published>2005-07-14T15:31:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-07-14T15:42:25.116+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Só Tu podes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/R001-0781.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/R001-0781.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/R001-078.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Só Tu podes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Devagarinho vais causando pressentimentos&lt;br /&gt;De uma comoção que virá caminhar a nossos lados.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O abalo escuta-se ao longe e tu vens, vens depressa,&lt;br /&gt;Como anunciando algo possante que em vão desvaneceu-se.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um desvanecimento, esperando o seu momento de encontro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esses timbres ritmados com percussão, aflige-nos,&lt;br /&gt;Nós, pescadores sem garras,&lt;br /&gt;Sem momentos de reflexão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que inquietante lance corrói nas passagens do coração,&lt;br /&gt;Ilusões, desgarradas e rebeldes com as próprias sensações.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ténues mudanças no caminho da esperança,&lt;br /&gt;Servidoras de fragmentos vivos, erráticos nesse instante.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Só podes&lt;br /&gt;Vencer ou Morrer&lt;br /&gt;Espírito ou Prazer.&lt;br /&gt;E nesse pedaço de céu&lt;br /&gt;Te aconchegares&lt;br /&gt;Para melhor reconheceres&lt;br /&gt;O Amor d´Ele.&lt;br /&gt;Por ti e por todos,&lt;br /&gt;Os pedaços da sua paixão,&lt;br /&gt;Caíram como rasteados&lt;br /&gt;Pela nossa desumanização.&lt;br /&gt;Vivo na tua memória,&lt;br /&gt;Uma grande compaixão. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-112135214510854746?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/112135214510854746/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=112135214510854746&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112135214510854746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112135214510854746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/07/s-tu-podes.html' title='Só Tu podes'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-112126742735110780</id><published>2005-07-13T16:01:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-07-13T16:10:27.360+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Intitulem-o...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/R001-155.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/R001-155.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Sobressaltando rodas por ambulâncias,&lt;br /&gt;Magicado pelas duas sobrevivências.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Relutante serás nas palavras que mediatizas,&lt;br /&gt;Observador nato do que não é patente e olhas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Raios de tempestade provocada por constrangimentos&lt;br /&gt;Levianos ou pesados de invólucros arriscados.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Atormentado, inspeccionas e manifestas audácia,&lt;br /&gt;Recriação do manual de valorizações à afoita eficiência.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;color:#ccccff;"&gt;P.S.: Gostaria que lhe dessem um nome, aguardo opiniões.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Pedro Miguel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-112126742735110780?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/112126742735110780/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=112126742735110780&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112126742735110780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112126742735110780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/07/intitulem-o.html' title='Intitulem-o...'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-112082592272974640</id><published>2005-07-08T12:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-07-08T23:18:49.983+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Grãos de Areia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_0527.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/100_0527.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Grãos de Areia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O sol lampeja pelas areias espargidas,&lt;br /&gt;Um convite profundo de verão.&lt;br /&gt;Alarde de tecidos repletos de sensação,&lt;br /&gt;Dilapidados de reacções humedecidas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sobre ventanias suaves ou desproporcionadas,&lt;br /&gt;Refrescamos o descanso de dias fatigados.&lt;br /&gt;Gotas de água laureiam os nossos pensamentos,&lt;br /&gt;Voando por imagens as memórias vencidas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os grãos de areia, incómodos pelas suas insuficiências,&lt;br /&gt;Permanecem nos espaços, minúsculos e imperceptíveis.&lt;br /&gt;Esses grãos que se acomodam junto ao mar, que temeis,&lt;br /&gt;Transmutam a excelência da água, em miragens paradisíacas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-112082592272974640?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/112082592272974640/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=112082592272974640&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112082592272974640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112082592272974640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/07/gros-de-areia.html' title='Grãos de Areia'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-112050578138947523</id><published>2005-07-04T20:28:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-07-04T20:36:21.396+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Ancora</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/cidade40g.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/cidade40g.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;foto de &lt;a href="http://www.av.it.pt/aveirocidade/"&gt;miguel lacerda&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Se o mundo, base de água e terra,&lt;br /&gt;Perde a sua essência, deixa semear&lt;br /&gt;Repousar em cada espaço vazio&lt;br /&gt;Levar os medos, e guardar as alegrias.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Essas recordações que colhes nos choros,&lt;br /&gt;Refugiam-se nesse lugar, que é só teu,&lt;br /&gt;Invadido pelos queixumes e murmúrios,&lt;br /&gt;Dessa vida escondida no enigmático.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O ónus que te leva ao fundo do mar,&lt;br /&gt;É o mesmo que te faz crescer, voar,&lt;br /&gt;Seguindo os percursos que delimitaste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O incorpóreo desse corpo que ressuscitas,&lt;br /&gt;Corpúsculos de vida, memórias estreitas,&lt;br /&gt;Guiando-te pelos trajectos do mar adentro.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-112050578138947523?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/112050578138947523/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=112050578138947523&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112050578138947523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112050578138947523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/07/ancora.html' title='Ancora'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-112017207956711997</id><published>2005-06-30T23:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-06-30T23:54:39.573+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Formatar</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/davincicode_01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/320/davincicode_01.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;[lacunas]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Como me apetecia formatar os documentos&lt;br /&gt;Tristes constrangimentos de quem morre no poder,&lt;br /&gt;Vangloriam-se da pobreza que contêm e talvez perder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como sinto necessidade de dizer verdades&lt;br /&gt;Refutadas por mentes pobres de espírito, incutidas de irrealidades.&lt;br /&gt;E continuam levando-se por coisas banais abandonando os demais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como pensam ter grandes coisas para decidir&lt;br /&gt;Não chega a vergonha que bolem nos seus ramos&lt;br /&gt;Murchos, por não ter água, e viverem secos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como estas mentes enfraquecidas suspiram certezas&lt;br /&gt;De quem não vê os erros da sua grande epígrafe,&lt;br /&gt;Ou simbolismos não chamados aos olhares firmados.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Formatar essas ladainhas tantas vezes escutadas,&lt;br /&gt;Formatar essas lengalengas que já enchem recantos,&lt;br /&gt;Formatar essas lacunas perdidas nas almas dos mais apagado&lt;/span&gt;s. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-112017207956711997?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/112017207956711997/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=112017207956711997&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112017207956711997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/112017207956711997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/06/formatar.html' title='Formatar'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-111999869040237152</id><published>2005-06-28T23:44:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-06-28T23:46:28.060+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Pulé Pulé</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/74/1108/640/R001-109.jpg"&gt;&lt;img class="phostImg" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/74/1108/320/R001-109.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Missa em Macomia, Moçambique&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Pulé Pulé        &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os ritmos africanos crescem&lt;br /&gt;Avivam as recordações largadas&lt;br /&gt;Entusiasmam os movimentos das&lt;br /&gt;Ancas, e do corpo como sobem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pulé Pulé        &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entra no espírito e deixa-te levar,&lt;br /&gt;Baila aos sons naturais&lt;br /&gt;Extraídos da magia demais&lt;br /&gt;Que transmitem a quem se amar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pulé Pulé&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ui como aumenta a vontade,&lt;br /&gt;Estimula os ossos e penetra no som&lt;br /&gt;Cada passo dado, uma verdade,&lt;br /&gt;Cada alegria, cada rosto, que tom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pulé Pulé        &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;São os dias, as noites, dias de festa&lt;br /&gt;Impartíveis, altamente contagiantes,&lt;br /&gt;Um passo atrás, outro à frente, liberta&lt;br /&gt;Uma corda balanceia aos ritmos quentes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pulé&lt;br /&gt;Pulé&lt;br /&gt;Pulé &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-111999869040237152?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/111999869040237152/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=111999869040237152&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/111999869040237152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/111999869040237152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/06/pul-pul.html' title='Pulé Pulé'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-111982625855592199</id><published>2005-06-26T23:43:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-06-26T23:50:58.560+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Onde errei!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Percorri pedaços de papel&lt;br /&gt;Calcando-os para vos agradar,&lt;br /&gt;Pensei que não tivesse sido em vão&lt;br /&gt;Mas mais uma vez me enganei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esses pedaços de papel,&lt;br /&gt;Sofreram por minha causa, que importa,&lt;br /&gt;Já sofreram e eu perdi algo,&lt;br /&gt;Essa minha ausência, deixou-vos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não queria ter-me enganado,&lt;br /&gt;Pensei que fosse bom para vocês,&lt;br /&gt;Desculpem a demora que vos causei&lt;br /&gt;Já não consigo atrasar o tempo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Senti-me muito mal,&lt;br /&gt;Pelo esforço desperdiçado,&lt;br /&gt;E ainda ver que não adiantou de nada,&lt;br /&gt;Onde errei!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-111982625855592199?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/111982625855592199/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=111982625855592199&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/111982625855592199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/111982625855592199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/06/onde-errei.html' title='Onde errei!'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-111972281394464676</id><published>2005-06-25T19:06:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2005-06-25T19:09:12.506+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Quis</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/74/1108/640/convite.jpg"&gt;&lt;img class="phostImg" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/74/1108/320/convite.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Quis&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quis fugir às almas erróneas&lt;br /&gt;Escapar aos males que zumbiam,&lt;br /&gt;Quis esconder as ladeias&lt;br /&gt;Ao ver as melancolias que atingiam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quis desrespeitar a ordem decorrente&lt;br /&gt;Do normal imposto na atitude,&lt;br /&gt;Quis partir, e assim caindo subsequente&lt;br /&gt;A desdita de sonhar altitudes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quis conceber modernos ramos&lt;br /&gt;E levar o crescimento mais além,&lt;br /&gt;Quis desvendar quem somos&lt;br /&gt;Nada mais, nada menos, excepto ninguém.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quis sublinhar os traços da vida&lt;br /&gt;Escalonar torres inverosímeis,&lt;br /&gt;Quis subir, e encontrar a Saída,&lt;br /&gt;Sumida, ao ver que me perdi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-111972281394464676?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/111972281394464676/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=111972281394464676&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/111972281394464676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/111972281394464676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/06/quis.html' title='Quis'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-111955656819832864</id><published>2005-06-23T20:54:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-06-23T20:56:08.206+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Que publicar...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Um dia andava pela rua um senhor.. com alguma idade, vivia sozinho e as ruas para ele eram o seu consolo, a sua companhia.Não passava despercebido quando alguém andava pela rua, muitos o cumprimentavam, outros olhavam-o com desconfiança, indiferença.Mas ninguém perguntou porque estava ali... porque vivia assim... porque todos os dias estava no mesmo sitio... nas mesmas horas...E a sua familia? Os seus filhos... netos? Onde estão eles... ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O senhor, raramente falava com alguém, ele não gostava muito de falar com as pessoas... diz que são muito falsas... interesseiras e sem compromisso para com a vida que tem.Que não aproveitam cada momento que podem usufruir. Que não vivem o verdadeiro sentido da vida... Pois afinal.. quem somos nós? Um ser para a morte, um ser que vem à terra, vive e depois parte?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque será que ninguém lhe perguntou que fazia ali? Um acontecimento infeliz?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ninguém alguma vez tinha tido a coragem de o perguntar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foi assim, que um dia um adolescente que costumava passar por ele, teve ousadia, e cumprimentou-o. O adolescente viu nas suas palavras uma doçura incrivel, uma massagear de movimentos. No entanto, um olhar triste cobria toda aquela personalidade.... frágil e débil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apresentando-se o jovem, este perguntou-lhe porque todos os dias ele, o senhor, permanecia ali sentado olhando a rua, aparentemente sem nenhum significado. O senhor, inquietado com a pergunta, ficou surpreendido ao saber que alguém notava o que todos os dia fazia.&lt;br /&gt;A bondade do adolescente, fez-lhe crescer um olhar amável no canto dos seus olhos... e o lacrejar de uma lágrima.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O senhor matando a curiosidade daquele adolescente explica-lhe o significado da sua permanencia todos os dias por ai...&lt;br /&gt;Sabes, jovem, eu sempre gostei de viver aqui... nesta cidade... com a familia que tinha, a minha esposa, a minha filha... infelizmente já não as tenho comigo, perdi o meu sentido de vida e as duas pessoasque amei em toda a minha vida, eram elas a razão do meu despertar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um dia... em viagem, iamos os três, de carro quando deparámo-nos com um acidente, e nós não esperando, seguia-nos um camião que não conseguiu controlar a velocidade e travar a tempo,e assim, ficámos por debaixo do camião... sem possibilidades de nos mexer.&lt;br /&gt;Por momentos pensei que aquilo nao me tinha acontecido, e que tudo era um pesadelo. De volta á realidade, noto que a minha mulher e a minha filha estavam encravadas de ferros...sem se poder movimentar.E eu sai ileso.... desatei a chorar.... chamei por eles... para ver se me respondiam... e nada.... comecei a temer o pior.... voltei a chamar e nada... já estava todo derretido em lágrimas.... Foi o pior momento da minha vida... ver os seus corpos sendo retirados do carro... e nós que não tinhamos culpa no acidente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isto... para te dizer que foi aqui, nesta mesma estrada para a qual olho todos os dias... para a qual recordo todos os dias o  pior momento da minha ... tentando enfrentá-lo  e encará-lo. Queria esquecer.. mas é impossivel... tantas vezes coloco a questão... porque não por outra estrada? porquê a mim? como me podem roubar a minha alegria de viver desta forma?&lt;br /&gt;O jovem ficou sem palavras, chorando, sem pronunciar uma única letra...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pois.. que cada um sinta que tem um guia... um anjo,.. que nos desperta, nos roga, nos faça relembrar histórias como esta.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-111955656819832864?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/111955656819832864/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=111955656819832864&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/111955656819832864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/111955656819832864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/06/que-publicar.html' title='Que publicar...'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6757406.post-111918600726325555</id><published>2005-06-19T14:00:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-06-19T14:02:15.413+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Como escorrem...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/74/1108/640/IlhadoPico.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img class="phostImg" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/74/1108/320/IlhadoPico.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;Como escorrem...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As minhas lágrimas,&lt;br /&gt;Por ver que não sou daqui,&lt;br /&gt;Quero partir e dar tudo de mim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jamais alguém saberá o que sinto&lt;br /&gt;O que passo e o que escondo,&lt;br /&gt;Mas quero sair e partilhar o que tenho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque insisto em seguir,&lt;br /&gt;Porque me deixo guiar pelas mentalidades,&lt;br /&gt;Tenho vontade de ir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero largar tudo...&lt;br /&gt;Esconder-me no vermelho&lt;br /&gt;E viver a intensidade do Amor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quem pensa que sabe&lt;br /&gt;Quem pensa ousar brincar com isto&lt;br /&gt;O sofrimento cresce e os anos demoram a passar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As minhas pedaladas inverosímeis,&lt;br /&gt;Deixam-me de rastos pelo socalcos,&lt;br /&gt;Que imponho seguir por e pelos outros.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Este desespero de me concretizar&lt;br /&gt;E de levar por águas&lt;br /&gt;A minha grande aventura.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deixem-me ir,&lt;br /&gt;Parem de me prender&lt;br /&gt;Quero partir para longe.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6757406-111918600726325555?l=ispoetry.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/feeds/111918600726325555/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6757406&amp;postID=111918600726325555&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/111918600726325555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6757406/posts/default/111918600726325555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ispoetry.blogspot.com/2005/06/como-escorrem.html' title='Como escorrem...'/><author><name>pedro barros</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07813130072865382739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7483/381/1600/100_1243.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
