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Our kites

Modifié le : 2019/07/16

It is easy to say, I keep repeat­ing it. It is more dif­fi­cult to do. “I love you, you love me, we will love each oth­er.” “I promise you, you promise me, we will promise each oth­er.” Politi­cians, lovers, sell­ers of all tem­ples, lovers of all sto­ries are capa­ble of the most beau­ti­ful words as well as the most ele­gant inanities.

Man, the male, is prob­a­bly even bet­ter able to ignite what­ev­er he wants with his words. As for the woman, the pri­ma don­na, cal­cu­lates more, weighs more, because she must embody what fol­lows, use her body to give life. But no mat­ter the style used, the word is to the mouth what the weapon is to the hand.

I have already writ­ten it down, said : what mat­ters is what we do. The word is too often this beau­ti­ful kite that we admire fight­ing against and with the wind. Soon­er or lat­er, the beau­ti­ful bird returns to the ground.

Say­ing “I love you” is worth­less if the body does­n’t fol­low. Walk your talk. A moth­er, a father, who sug­ar­coats her words with fine speech­es, proves noth­ing as long as she does not act. A kiss, wel­com­ing arms, a kind heart, a real pro­tec­tion for the souls of their chil­dren. Pass­ing the kite requires trans­mit­ting this rope, this anchor.

A young adult who promis­es eter­nal love has not yet under­stood that it is some­times nec­es­sary to sail for a long time, to dive his anchor in the water of many coasts, before know­ing what to do. His naivety is obvi­ous­ly his virtue. He wants to act and the old­er adult must, for his part, know how to set sail again, cast off, because he con­tin­ues to live. Always, oh, always, let us turn our words around a thou­sand times in this soil of certainties.

This is the case for the coun­try, for the Earth. You are words, you are a body, and between this bark and this tree, there is this sap that we call emo­tion, heart, shar­ing. To be tru­ly sin­cere is when what you say takes root, through the mag­ic of your love, in the soil of your actions.

When we real­ly love, jeal­ousy dis­ap­pears, when we real­ly act, we do not let the word become the Bible, we do not let it become a judg­ment. When we real­ly do, love escapes all bor­ders, dis­tinc­tions, and rules. And if, because the laws of Nature are so made, we must fight to sur­vive, we will have done so with respect. Peace and love.

Our plan­et, our body is our ocean. There are many evanes­cent pos­si­bil­i­ties, some­times inaudi­ble, frag­ile in front of comets and the inevitable. To speak, to do is to do to speak and to speak to do. Thus the Giant Fer­ris Wheel lights up with all its lights. Like stars and too many galaxies.

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