title  |  text   

Yes, I still take care of your flowers.

I still visit the glass house, with the garden built there.

I don't have your way.

The thin fingers, the green fingers, were only yours.

Thus, nothing is the same as before.

The anthuriums, always ruddy, turned pale.

The begonias miss the afternoon conversations.

The gerberas are distracted, always looking far away,

to where you are not.

And the black orchid, well, the black orchid doesn't bloom anymore...

Two weeks ago it moved to a different flowerbed. I believe it has been gone to bloom closer to you.

Yes, I still take care of your flowers.

 Of what has remained, of them and of me.

Of what has remained of the time between the two of us.

Of the watering and the pruning, of the tulip and the jasmine.

The doctor son, affectionate, prescribed: a swim in the sea and in the garden!

However, we must agree:

Longing has no cure.

Longing has no end.

*   *   *

After those you love left the carnal circle, you have the impression that life has lost its purpose.

The hours are empty, while the anguish that tears you apart and a fierce despair that drains your energies become a constant of your moments of long agony.

You fear that you will not bear such a cruel feeling.

Nevertheless, you will be able to overcome it.

Your longing and suffering are fair. But not to the point of leading you to imbalance, to the death of hope, to revolt.

The beings you love and who have passed away were not consumed in the vortex of annihilation. They survived.

Life would be a deception if it were destroyed by the breath of passing death.

Life manifests itself, develops in infinite shades and countless expressions.

The form is modified and structures itself, it aggregate and decomposes, passing from one vibratory expression to another, without the energy that vitalizes it depending on the transitory circumstances in which it is externalized.

Therefore, those who have passed by your side and moved to another domicile are not dead, in the sense of being destroyed.

Those you love continue to live.

Wait a little, while praying, and the prayer will brighten your soul and involve them in the direction they are following.

Strive to find resignation.

Love, when it  true, overcomes any distance and is a bridge between abysses, shortening paths.

In the same way that you long to feel them again, to talk to them, to listen to them, they desire it equally.

However, they need to evolve, just like you do.

By freeing them, they will continue with you, they will prepare your reunion, they will wait for you...

*   *   *

Each Spirit is a detailed plan of evolution of the Greater Father. Each of us is an individuality.

There will be times when we will be closer or farther from those we love, as it already happens in our own carnal existence.

Children grow up, they move away from home; travel for courses abroad. Dear siblings, due to the needs of work, move to other cities.

We no longer have them within the reach of daily embrace, but that does not mean they have ceased to exist or that love has ceased to shine either.

So let us assimilate this truth gradually: when we speak of death, let us not think in terms of goodbye, but instead in terms of see you soon.

Spiritist Moment Team, based on the poem named Glashaus,
 from the book Há verso em tudo publishing Immortality Books;
 and on chapter 56,  from the book  Sementes de vida eterna,
from  various Spirits, psychographed by Divaldo Pereira Franco,
 publishing LEAL.
March 9.2025