just be there, in his body, gracefully. Breathe the air present.
And see. To feel your whole being dissolve in the face of this
which is in front of you.
And what does it matter if the limit between me and what I give myself to see is emerging, moving, blurred and then seeming animated by an energy without source or destination.
For long minutes, to wait or not to wait,
what does it matter since I am just as much the origin as the end of the world, and that the
time pulses out of time passing a music so insistent that I layer my
thought and my words on the present mystery.
May only the lark take me out of this daydream to tell me that it's late and that I'll have to go home.
The fury of the creative act in all its existential nudity
seems to arise from the psychic matter of the third party included by the highlighting
of the affectivity of the hidden third party.
Each face is a text to decipher . If I observe the face of the other without reduce it to what I think I know of it, then an opening can occur in my conscience and this is how God comes to mind .
The face of the other recognized in its otherness is of the order of the elusive and the infinite .
The face is a continent that we never have finished exploring, a limitless land, a bottomless ocean.
His features, its relief like that of the Earth's crust, bear the imprint of all the big and small shakes who marked him .
Reading between the lines of the face supposes a " clairvoyance " that comes from the heart, go straight in the heart andwhich is called love. Le visage, this icon of the invisible, is good plus fine, more precious and even more beautiful, when the being who painted it by his experience, is passed through the test.
The relationship with the face occurs as goodness .
Look at a person's face, it is to put his ego aside, it's trying to forget, self ; is to allow oneself to be contemplated by the face of the other, of this neighbor who is there, in front of oneself and obliges us, necessarily and tenderly, to make the stranger his closest brother.
" Looking at you your good smile invades me ... Am I still of this world ? " " thank you godmother . Thank you my good fairy . "
And although having yielded too much for less than nothing to the external event, this one nevertheless allowed me to read my inner demons and a small step towards the light.
And it's not so bad especially if, the wind stirring the wind turbines, lists the wonder possibilities of the world.