div fluage

Monday, July 30, 2007

suis-je une illusion?

Les jours… oh les jours!

Les nuits, elles sont bien, je dors, je dors bien et tranquille.

Et voilà que le matin vient et m'approche avec ses caresses de folie et les souvenirs de ta tendresse.Je ne veux pas t'oublier, et je ne veux pas m'oublier. Comment est qu'on saura ce qu'on veut vraiment?

Il me vient a l'esprit qu'il faut qu'on se parle, qu'il faudra bien qu'on s'aime et qu'on se parlera sans les mots.

Suis-je une illusion?

Saturday, July 28, 2007

it is morning again

i am back remembering february, and november past. i travel wide and far these days, i write, i breathe and walk trough life wondering what the adventure is all about.

most of all, my encounters with those others on this planet do not leave me cold or passive. i am as curious as ever, and the adventure seems to have a new beginning with each sunrise.

just this week i had one of those moments when i was very present to the beauty of it all. felt loved and a part of it all, and questioned all the notions and ideas that one is polluted with in the process of just being on earth with other humans. i was then very present to what it is like to be held in your arms, and what it is like to be a part of this life and share those moments that we do share, and if there is something that i know, it is that i do not know what it is like to be you.

for some odd reason i always thought that the most intimate of all moments are not very personal. at some level those moments are not personal, yet when it comes to you, there is something personal, something that i have rare recollections of ever having experienced. i wonder if it is my memory that fails me, or if it is that what we share is precious beyond the capabilities of what my words can express.

it is pure joy to wake up early on a saturday morning rested and to have my first thought be of you, feel the longing for your presence, and to be happy in my solitude just the same, and to remember how your hand feels when you caress my legs and never knowing when again we will look into each others eyes. i miss your gaze, i miss your eyes, i miss you and i feel complete in this world of solitude and seclusion.

it is morning, and i am remembering. it is morning and i am dreaming. it is morning and i am grateful for this morning.

Saturday, July 21, 2007

by my truth

you are nothing at all

i am all, and i am nothing

thus, there we are: equal