FROM MY ESSAYS:

JOURNEY INTO MY HEART

SEASONS ARE FOR MAN TO MEET GOD.

And when seasons change you become troubled, fearing the unknown. As for me, I wonder in prayer for the great expectations. For every new season there is a dance and a feast. And the infant is in his mother’s womb only for a short time, after which he will burst in the astonishment of facing the light. In his arrival he will bring along colorful songs for the seasons, and in laughter and tears he shall bathe in them.

My flocks slumber in sadness; dry is the season complains the shepherd. Indeed, it is the cancer of despair that is eating up his heart. And to him I speak: Friend, your flocks are nourished by your hope before they are nourished by the pastures. Allow hope to grow in your heart, and then the entire earth will burst in green.

“When the harvest appears not so promising to you, retreat into the desert and pray for rain to descend on the valley. Blessings are from God to man, and to God he must return.Sterility and pains are born, when man hesitates to acknowledge that all come from Him. Ingratitude kills the gift of hope,” says my father’s wisdom.

In the desert you meet the stars that will lead you back to the valley. And upon your return, you will gather the opulent harvest for which the stars had filled your heart with the hope. From hope is born your zeal to labor under the sun, rain and fog. They, and all other nature’s elements, speed up the process of the whitening of your fields to honor your faith; from your faith is born your people’s opulence- that of the flesh and the spirit.

I have lived in the desert and composed songs to its dryness, stars and caravans. And through my songs I have communicated with its beasts and reptiles. To become a friend of the stars and God, man must befriend that what frightens him. Through my thirst I have learned how to march towards the fountains and decipher the mirage from the water; I needed to educate myself according to God’s laws and their exigencies that have become like honey on my tongue. And when the road seems to be too strenuous, long and unpredictable, worry not, you have already arrived through the hope that one day you will arrive. Hope is the beginning and end of a road well- traveled; despair is the stagnation of a route never taken. Every arrival is a crowning of a march under God’s auspices.

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