Blessed insomnia

Woken up in the middle of the night

Divided between this deep inside so pure, so soothed

And these doubts, these fears on the surface

Who keep me awake.

What to do ?

Gold through my white curtains

Magic is everywhere

Light between half-closed blinds

It is so simple

No more dramas

No more intrigue

Revelations and truth

Woke up earlier

Faith is born and built

In the midst of fatigue, insomnia

I write on a dead tree

The feel of the paper under my hand is soft

The smell of wood is good

But my love for trees is greater

I love them and I want them to stay alive.

They talk to us, they protect us.

Healing…

So what to write about?

Where, in what to sleep?

Ingenuity has no limits,

In intuition, we are capable of the greatest.

We are born free and equal

Before God, the Universe, the Absolute, the Infinite

We are Love.

Air, Earth, Water and Fire are free

For everyone

Earth is my home.

Living in Mars ?!

Looking elsewhere without seeing the treasure before our eyes!

Insane !

Vanity. Blindness.

Strange human creatures

Capable of everything

Blessed

But a big responsibility

Vulnerable and strong in Faith.

Getting out of madness to enter Consciousness.

Peace.

Ta2-22

(Written in February 2019)

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