Through the fog and the fuzzy shapes of dawn,
I believe I saw your image, recognized your breath.
I thought of God, the path, loneliness. With the break of dawn,
The landscape was passing. The train of life, a life with no breath.
I smiled at the nostalgia that greeted me. Silently.
I do not know why, deep down, I needed so much to write it.
My heart is in exile and receives the exiled. Silently.
Will learn one day how to receive this gift, and my
You were loneliness, pain, death. Passing
My heart knew that you accompanied it, that you loved it
I did not know the words to say. Passing
The morning fogs offered silence to me and confided that you loved me.
Through the window, this infinite sadness. Infinitely faithful.
The moment:
« Rendezvous at Le Lavandou », Henri Salvador.
« This evening, the sea and the sky are going to meet together
Turn Le Lavandou into an unreal world
And on the golden beach the sands are getting softer
The sky falls asleep on the sea, cheek to cheek
What do I care, with the evening exploding into a thousand fires
If I cannot see it in your eyes
What do I care if the wind murmurs such soft words
If my heart cannot expect them from you
For this evening, the sea and the sky had made their rendezvous
To make an unreal world, just for us
For this evening, the sea and the sky had made their rendezvous
Turn Le Lavandou into an unreal world
But on the wet sand, with one final eddy,
Shiver and die, washed out, my mad dreams. »
(in italics)
In the silence of the night under a big pine tree
I share my prayer with the stars, the sky, the wind.
I pray the Father for His embrace and love to thee.
In the silence of the night, my tears play with the wind.
(…)
In the silence of the night your hand is firm and near
There is no time and there, you see, there are no tears
but only the most tender heart inviting every one to come.
In the silence of the night you pray: «let the answer come!»
(…)
In the silence of the heart, your fast, my dearest day.
You are the love, the hope, the one breath who says
You are the gift of the Word, let your heart be my hands
You know my love, you know my tears,
(…)
Go and return, hurry up my dear!
Mirror of our exile, of our fragility, you, dear nostalgia, you call us back to the Unity! It is you, dear Heart, who changes the illusion of the absence into the experience of the presence, the exile into the hug. Dear heart, betrayed, you bleed through and call us back … Cry, dear soul, cry out all your suffering, until you have become an empty space for Me. I am waiting for you, I am here, here for you. I need you, my dear soul, under the big pine tree, wrapped into the prayer, into the Breath, breathing through … Come.
You, dear heart, The Educator in us, you watch us smile and weep and say: I love you, I see you through the eyes. Whose eyes are these? Answer, go, experience, and return. Yes, teach me, here I am, surrendered. I die to the illusion of the separation and let the being enter the garden of its new life. Who is me? Do you know me? Now, repeat after me … Learn, my dear soul, my dear me, my dear you, I am helping you through. I am educating you. You are loved, so much, so tenderly … Father, merci!
Warm gust blowing, under sleepy velvet sky
Reveals an open canopy of scattered stars
And with it re-awakening forgotten memories
That echo in the breeze, in the stillness of the night
and then I hear love whispering, in my soul
And know the answers to unasked questions
Leaving this heart wedged between and solace solitude
Like momentary peace to the dying
Shakkira xx