You understand that from that vantage point,
things no longer depend on you. The currents
that usually remain hidden reveal themselves
more forcefully. Destiny is no longer a path;
it’s a deep lake, and when they say “it doesn’t matter”
you know you’re on the edge of the abyss. When something
doesn’t matter, it’s because life has already made
a decision at another level. When there are no powers.
The echo of the trees unveils what others say behind
your back. It’s not a mysterious revelation, but a simple
interpolation formula that governs all human affairs.
All seemingly insignificant events reflect
a constellation with only one cause. A collective verdict
that needs no sentence. Remember
the voices of the ancestors in Melanesian tribes
became cathedrals of facts floating
above the huts. Chains of words entangled
in the air. A murmur joined by microscopic gestures,
gradually distorted greetings, slightly altered flights
of birds and sudden temperature changes. Unless
you manage to cross that waterfall of changes, transform
yourself into another force of nature, become a shaman…
you will accept what comes, no longer rewarded by any magic
and you will be an example of self-overcoming, a model of extreme
coherence. That is by no means joyful,
because from there your dreams appear diminished,
fading slowly. You have become the symbol
of reality itself. So much so, that when you fall ill,
no one will expect your recovery, though they claim to wish it,
for that ailment will also be the culmination of that coherence,
the ultimate symbol that ensures that vision was correct.