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may 22, 2009 (0096us) 
the endless return of  field poppies

After months of toil and concerns, and deep tireness resulting from them, we were off for three days of relaxation in Languedoc at our daughter Anne's.
As we Sister Christiane and I love field poppies which spread their somptuous fire all over the fields in spring, we stopped by the first meadow carpeted  with red.
Fields poppies are as ephemeral under the bad weather of the bleak spring as a man's life under mankind's sin so they make us ponder the causes of our too short happiness times and our decline.

But, even though all on earth is destructible or mortal , like field poppies, there are things and beings destined to escape death when the Fire of the Good has caught in their depths.
dans les coquelicotsThe Revelation of Arès has been republished with new annotations and in a new layout (see entry 0095us).
An eight-month construction and renovation work is nearing completion in Arès all over our holy place which as been turned upside down.
Now we have to tidy up and clean the whole place and prepare it for the Pilgrimage to open up on June 21st. We have to make sure that the Pilgrims will not notice that bulldozers, mechanical diggers, concrete mixers, trucks of brick, cobble and timber were there.
When we change something or we change ourselves, we have to do so in order to make others happy, but not to make ourselves happy egoistically. Whenever things or human beings change in the name of the Good, they are like field poppies which would lose part of their ephemerality, and the thin stems of which would be linked to a blissful eternity, which has already been streaming underground, like they were sucked by God's wake. This is why field poppies are back every year ! Some day they will no longer die. Our penitence will have saved them and saved the world. 
Such is the profound meaning of all I'be been striving, so that every element of the mission that the Creator put me in charge of may result in duration.
A book is just some writing on paper and a Pilgrimage place is just made of appearances in a landscape, but whoever has gone deep down his or her flesh as well as mind or soul while looking for the Good is aware that the most ordinary and frail things may gain a profound and lasting meaning.

A book, a place, when they are bridges to Life thrown across the bottomless abyss of History and man's neverending insecurity, keep us forever linked to our childhood. This saves us from death—Be like children, says The Revelation of Arès (33/8).
No child is cut off from life, ever, unlike a lot of adults whom routine, mediocrity and the skepticism of "the guys that weren't born yesterday" have already killed standing. For a man of hope like for a child there is no such thing as an odor of death. God has given us field poppies and small pebbles so that we can stay in childhood. Hop o'my Thumb dropped small pebbles to get and keep his bearings. The pages of The Revelation of Arès and our holy premises in Arès are our small pebbles along our path to Heaven. I've got to polish and wash them well so that the generations yet unborn can find their way.


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