bridges

At first sunrise, Flore opened her eyes when she heard “sea of clouds”. She knew this phenomenon as specific to good weather, and quite dependent on the altitude that the boat took in such moments; and the word made her remember her fondest memory of the cloudy sea; not on planes, or on a simple image, but once she had gone, with her family, to the top of a large mountain – the name escaped her, with the help of a rather imposing cable car and rather long. The spectacle had made him dream, because it was so close; the clouds so dense that they formed a thick fluffy carpet.

It was like standing above the world, above the earth.

Close to the creators and all their celestial children.

—–

And when she leaves, we forget her.

Could she have guessed that things would turn out differently?

If the thread had fallen at the right time, she would have caught it in midair, and would have flown to the other side.

But the latter remained, despite all his dreams, inaccessible.

From a distance, however, it looked like a vast virgin forest already a little colonized, teeming with exotic discoveries, animals and plants alike. Already a little organized, although still a little in interior development.

Every time she thought about taking a bridge, a wall rose up on the other side.

She couldn’t take it anymore.

And the more she thought about taking bridges, the more she realized that she was neglecting the bridges going down and up.

The universe was huge.

She would only have to talk to him from afar now. Letters were also a means of communication. Praying that from time to time carrier pigeons take the wrong path or forget the sender.

There were so many beautiful things to do, which took useful time.

Good time for her.

Loving sometimes has to happen only in the background in order to move forward.

February 17, 2017