Une pensee a Maria
Maria, the flower of my life
At the heart of this journey, a light persisted: Maria.
The morning fills the half-open corridor with sunlight. The nascent rays warm the atmosphere. On the granite steps, worn by the coming and going of several generations, the door opens completely. She is there.
Grandmother, hair gathered in a bun, face radiant. She embraces me as usual, in a protective manner. I feel the warmth of her embrace, the softness of her skin, the love that radiates.
?Maria, you are the flower of my life.
The sacred fire that I wish upon everyone.
The grief is great when I think of you, but love saves life. Can one describe feelings? It is like a sculpture: one chisels the bonds between two beings over time, through shared moments, shared values, boundless love, simplicity.
We had this clarity, and we knew that sensitivity is a strength.
?Opening one's heart to others.
Testimonies serve as a binding thread, but are not an end in themselves. All roads are long with the dust of life.
The stars are but the sparks of the infinite.
To see, to hear… or to slip into the insondable silent light.
We always have a tear in the corner of our eye, a heart vibrating like the strings of a guitar. Sensitivity lives within us. It is our inner music.
Chrysalises have become butterflies. No matter the form, words always carry a world in perpetual movement.
And Maria, in this world, is the clear note, the warm breath, the tenderness that never fades.
?Joël Charvillat.
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