This poem is following : What Makes me Feel like Crying (1/2) This is the point where wordsCollapse into linesAnd lines fade out in dots,Where
This poem is following : What Makes me Feel like Crying (1/2) This is the point where wordsCollapse into linesAnd lines fade out in dots,Where
–The illusion of present lives : the succession of thousands of hours, spent pretending we actually exist. –The illusion of past lives : stories, all
What appears to me as truly wonderful, is that the aging process does not seem to impact the sheer joy of being. This experience can
As we grow older, comes an impression of unsuitability,We feel we have become unfit for inhabiting this place. Compared to the inflamed spark thrown by
At the top of our breathing inAt the bottom of our breathing out,Falling asleep, at Mindfulness DuskWaking up, at Consciousness Dawn 4 points on the
I have smothered in the narrowness of your mindsI have despaired along your vacant aspirations. My heart has splintered through you indulgenceMy soul has crushed
(french version available here : Au Siffloteur des Matins) From the fierce immaturity of my teenage years, I would question him about the endless universe
The evolution of religions as well as the way spiritualities expand, can never be detached from time. As we move along this axis, we are
Il y a quelques années encore Je l’aimais bien. Nous construisions mille jeux D’équilibre, d’adresse et de patience. Je ne le pressais pas Et lui