I did receive this beautiful text that now I post it. In a moment of sorrow for some, not only now in the case of the flight Air France AF447, it always is good to know that the boat is always sailing in a sunny day.
"When you look, the beach, a sailing boat departing from the coast, surfing sea, propelled by the morning breeze, we are faced with a spectacle of rare beauty. The sailing boat, driven by the force of the winds, will win the blue sea and will seem increasingly smaller. Not long and we can only cover a small white dot on the remote and indecisive line, where sea and sky meet.
Who sees the sailing boat disappear on the horizon, certainly exclaim: "She is gone." "Will be gone?" "Evaporated?" No, certainly not. Only lost sight of. The sailing boat continues with the same size and with the same capacity it had when he was around us. Remains as capable as before to lead to the port of destination, the loads received. The sailing boat did not evaporated. Only we can not see her more. But she remains the same. And maybe, in the exact moment when someone parts.
So is death. When the sailing boat leaves, taking the precious cargo of a love that has been dear to us, and we see her go away on the line that separates the visible from the invisible, we say: "She is gone." "Will be gone?" "Evaporated?" No, certainly, not. Only lost sight of. The one we love continues to be the same. His/Her mental capacity is not lost. His/Her achievements remain intact in the same way as when he/she was on our side. He/She retains the same affection nurtured for us. Nothing is lost, unless the physical body that is no longer needed on the other side.
So it is that, at the same time we say, "She is gone", someone else in the other side will happily say: "She is coming." She arrived at the destination taking with her the acquisitions made during the Earth travel.
Life never stops nor offers spectacular changes, for nature does not jump. Each one carries his/her cargo of vices and virtues, of affection and disaffection, until he/she decides to dispose of what seems unnecessary.
Life is made of departures and arrivals. Of comings and goings. So what seems to us to be departure, for others is the arrival. "She is gone", there will be other voices, on the other side, to say: "Here comes the boat."
"When you look, the beach, a sailing boat departing from the coast, surfing sea, propelled by the morning breeze, we are faced with a spectacle of rare beauty. The sailing boat, driven by the force of the winds, will win the blue sea and will seem increasingly smaller. Not long and we can only cover a small white dot on the remote and indecisive line, where sea and sky meet.
Who sees the sailing boat disappear on the horizon, certainly exclaim: "She is gone." "Will be gone?" "Evaporated?" No, certainly not. Only lost sight of. The sailing boat continues with the same size and with the same capacity it had when he was around us. Remains as capable as before to lead to the port of destination, the loads received. The sailing boat did not evaporated. Only we can not see her more. But she remains the same. And maybe, in the exact moment when someone parts.
So is death. When the sailing boat leaves, taking the precious cargo of a love that has been dear to us, and we see her go away on the line that separates the visible from the invisible, we say: "She is gone." "Will be gone?" "Evaporated?" No, certainly, not. Only lost sight of. The one we love continues to be the same. His/Her mental capacity is not lost. His/Her achievements remain intact in the same way as when he/she was on our side. He/She retains the same affection nurtured for us. Nothing is lost, unless the physical body that is no longer needed on the other side.
So it is that, at the same time we say, "She is gone", someone else in the other side will happily say: "She is coming." She arrived at the destination taking with her the acquisitions made during the Earth travel.
Life never stops nor offers spectacular changes, for nature does not jump. Each one carries his/her cargo of vices and virtues, of affection and disaffection, until he/she decides to dispose of what seems unnecessary.
Life is made of departures and arrivals. Of comings and goings. So what seems to us to be departure, for others is the arrival. "She is gone", there will be other voices, on the other side, to say: "Here comes the boat."
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