Moulin - Blog Posts

Bons souvenirs... ^^

Et vous, où aimez-vous vous promener ?

A moulin has its own gravity.

More than what ties us to the earth.

The pull is much stronger, like invisible arms

tugging at my sleeves.

It reaches out, beckoning, whispering

“come down, join us, come and see what lies beneath. 

Come and witness the divine mysteries.”

The roar of water becomes a rush of voices,

crying out in rapturous wonder as they tumble

into the blue.

I long to join my own voice to that choir.

This is not suicidal.

I know that if I make the plunge, I will almost certainly die—

but death is not the void that’s calling me.

It’s something deeper.

Something older, yes, older than death,

older than life, older than the stars,

maybe older than God.

It has its own gravity.