(The moment that Santiago meets Fatima in “The Alchemist”)
Because, when you know that language, it’s easy to understand that someone in the world awaits you, whether it’s in the middle of the desert or in some great city.
And when two such people encounter each other, and their eyes meet, the past and the future become unimportant.
There is only that moment, and the incredible certainty that everything under the sun has been written by one hand only. It is the hand that evokes love, and creates a twin soul for everyone person in the world.
Without such love, one’s dreams would have no meaning.
“Maktub”, thought the boy.
~ The Alchemist, by Paulo Coelho
And in your words, two parts of a loving whole, two hearts and a single soul.
a person or thing that announces or signals the approach of another
She would declare them harbingers. Every single one of them.
Only this time, she knew it was not possible.
There will be no more. There will be no others.
Take out the flowers
Throw out the dirty water
Rinse out the vase
Put it away
René Ricard (1979-1980)
Everyday is a new day.
How cliché. How true.
Except I dried those flowers and locked them in a state of semi-permanence.
Cherry blossoms and its impermanence are a cruel but beautiful reminder of how fickle, fragile and finite our emotions can be. As we watch them wilt and scatter, we stand and gaze with the hope of seeing the same beauty and magnificence again one day. We cannot do the same for certain things in life.
This René Ricard poem. Its brutal simplicity speaks such truth.
A mundane act of cleaning out a vase could hold such significance.
Either that, or I am being overly dramatic and sensitive these days. Fucking hormones. And general exhaustion.