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Dust in the wind
"What is the path to your feet soft, the wind sopre light on your shoulders.
Let the sun brilhe
warm on your face, the rains fall serenas in your fields.
And until I see you again, God save you in the palm of His hand. "(Old Irish blessing)
There were 2,819 deaths in New York, in fatídico September 11, 2001. Already Madrid on March 11, 2004, registered 191 victims fatal. The day on September 3, 2004 saw 370 people losing their lives in Chechnya, mostly children.
Among many other similar events, the world has witnessed the tragedies caused by men against men, or rather, by men against men, women and children. Attacks that claim lives, counted one by one counted. Lives lost by the work of ocaso, by action of people who had other purposes than life: economic purposes, political, religious.
Now, the tragedy we afligiu recently in Asia has been promoted by nature. Here, the lives lost are not counted one by one, but to hundreds, the thousands. Do not know how many there were, nor how many will. You can not measure the extent of the pain, its multiplier effect, geometric. Missing ballot boxes, but not lacking ditches; missing groceries and medicines, but not lacking tears; not lack suffering, but also no lack solidarity.
Personally, I am not only in mourning, but to fight. Fight for life by "living in abundance, which extends beyond the boundaries of death," as in the Master said.
Fardado, my arms are others. My arms are teeth to smile, hands to stroke, to involve arms, words to nurture, ears to hear, eyes to marejar. They are weapons for comfort, to share, to confraternizar - with the fraternal, or with the brothers. Sheets of paper, blank sheets waiting to be written, written sheets waiting to be read.
We are many fragile beings, made dust in the wind. How easy it is to lose their lives: a fortuitous accident on board a car; an ambush in a trench, a firearm that shoots; a exalt of ânimos that precludes people who had everything to be friends.
But as dust in the wind, small particles of life, can actually change the course of history through small or large gestures, actions, suits, made. As dust in the wind, can travel loose, lightweight, polinizando the paths with seed of love.
This is only one among many and many text that certainly grassarão the network, newspapers, magazines, radio, television, tables and bar banks schools, around the world, around the world. After all, there is plenty to comment on, much to be discussed and a clear need to demonstrate. Perhaps to conscientizarmos, even briefly, as we are only dust in the wind.Escreva o seu resumo aqui.
Published: November 09, 2007
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