Symbols of Light

I am a free being who deeply believes in the power of intentions, dreams, projects, and imagination. I believe in Love that liberates, that soothes, that changes the world. I believe in the power of actions as much as in the power of thoughts. I believe in the spirit of Gentleness that flows through the world and hearts in an instant. Maybe they will say I am just a DREAMER, but I would say that Love has no borders, no culture, no gender, and if God exists, His greatest wish is for human beings to live in harmony, in cooperation. Of course, I am aware of all the suffering, all the violence, all the pettiness contained in the human spirit, and I do not suggest wearing blinders; rather, the way we look at the world influences it. I cultivate within myself and around me the Great Dream, the one that embraces all beliefs and all visions, without necessarily adhering to them. The one who dares to look beyond their own vision to encompass all visions is capable of changing the world.

Instrumental and wordless vocal opening: a distant low harmonic signal appears, like a message from the future already erased into sound No spoken words, no intelligible lyrics; the original human message survives only as musical contour, breath, resonance and form A deep baritone-like drone enters without words, close and warm, carrying the memory of a human voice A slow rising motif appears: three soft notes climbing gently, the hidden musical trace of peace arriving The motif repeats in different timbres: muted strings, breath-tones, low humming resonance, pale harmonic shimmer The music opens gradually, as if healing were becoming harmony: warm chords widen, low pressure releases, upper tones become clearer A grounded pulse begins underneath, slow and human, shaped by the idea of caring for the Earth Subtle tactile percussion enters like hands, soil, tools, steps, work, care, and attention The pulse never becomes a pop beat; it remains organic, patient, terrestrial Middle section: bright interlocking melodic cells appear, translating creative projects into motion, small sparks, living structures, and forward movement The original speech rhythm reappears as phrasing only: short surges, pauses, accelerations, then calm returns Wordless vocal layers rise and dissolve, like a choir made from the memory of one human address The central rising motif returns wider and warmer, surrounded by breath halo, bowed strings, low drone and granular air A brief clearing: almost silence, one low human resonance, one high harmonic tone, one soft pulse Final section: the spoken message has fully become music; no words remain, only peace motif, Earth pulse, healing chords and luminous moving textures The last sound is a warm low resonance fading into clear silence, as if the message continues underneath the world

Verse 1 Oh ya ba da ba boom be da Oh ya ba da ba boom be da Je m'appelle, je m'appelle être humain Il y a une graine dans ma poitrine, une graine qui se souvient du ciel Chaque fois que j'inspire, le monde s'ouvre Chaque fois que j'expire, le monde respire Oh sous moi, il a terre bouge Oh boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom

intro – BAS ☍✦ Hooo… ooo… Old symbols return in modern guise, fear sells fast, the crowd takes sides, then a wider, steadier wisdom learns to rise. living waves – SOP ⍟✶ Ā… ō… ū… Trees carry pulses beyond the reach of power, streams braid signals through stone and root, animals shift the map by scent and hour. verse – BAR ⍟✹ In China, breath seeks open air, in Chile, streets remember care. In Iran, young voices claim their share, in Russia, mothers ask for peace with prayer. In Ukraine, kitchens, schools, and hands repair, in Palestine and Israel, grief stands everywhere, and peace grows real through justice, safety, truth laid bare. verse – CON ᛒ✦ In Sudan, neighbors form a circle, aware, in Yemen, water turns into a vow we share. In Syria, names return in candle-glare, in Libya, borders, oil, and arms demand repair. In Afghanistan, pages rise like mountain air, each line a doorway, each lesson a stair. world weave – MEZ ج✳ In France, in Germany, in Spain, in Italy, in Hungary, in Poland, hearts watch carefully. In the United States, money steers heat and grief, in the United Kingdom, hardship asks relief. In India, many faiths seek dignity, in Pakistan, streets search stability. In Bangladesh, river-mud reshapes the shore, in Brazil, in Mexico, in Colombia, people ask for more. In Haiti, community holds the flame, in Congo, in the Sahel, resource-hunger brings its claim. In Kenya, in Nigeria, in Senegal, youth call with clarity, in Turkey, in Greece, in Lebanon, sea-roads ask humanity. In Morocco, in Algeria, in Tunisia, daily life demands equity, and every land adds its voice to a rising polyphony. old paths – MEZ ج✳ Hollow lanes, herders’ tracks, river routes, forest passes, forgotten crossings wake in grasses. Librarians, nurses, workers, farmers, teachers, riders, artists, jurists, gather around the vulnerable, steady, earnest. ADN kairophony – HEXA light [BAS ☍✦] AUG = ā-ou-ga… AUA = a-ou-a… UGU = ou-ga-ou… [TEN ⍟✹] ga-lou-hū… na-ra-ō… sha-lou-ma-koo… [SOP ⍟✶] Hooo… ooo… ✦ ⍟ ☍ chorus – TEN ⍟✹ Like waves on the sea, the peoples rise, joined by a planetary breath that guides. Power builds walls, life builds ties, earth asks care, and conscience replies. The sleeping march awakens inside, and human kinship moves worldwide. outro – BAS ☍✦ Hooo… ooo… In every tree, a listening glow, in every stream, a way to flow, in every animal, soft signals grow.

J’ai entendu une rumeur, douce comme le vent, Un murmure léger qui s’élève doucement. Les peupliers se dressent, unis dans le silence, Leurs racines profondes, portées par l’espérance. Refrain : Je chante, je marche, je suis peuplier, Pour la paix des peuples, pour les libertés. Mes feuilles frémissent au souffle de demain, Je m’élève, je m’unis, avec d’autres chemins. J’ai entendu un appel, dans le cœur des forêts, Un chant qui résonne, et que rien ne peut arrêter. Je suis enraciné dans la Terre et le temps, Je porte la lumière dans ce souffle vivant. Refrain : Je chante, je marche, je suis peuplier, Pour la paix des peuples, pour les libertés. Mes feuilles frémissent au souffle de demain, Je m’élève, je m’unis, avec d’autres chemins. Nous avançons ensemble, portés par l’unité, Des peuples debout, unis par leur humanité. Pas de frontières, pas de murs à franchir, Nous sommes le vent du futur à bâtir. Pont : Je suis un souffle, une racine, une voix, Je suis l’écho des rêves que l’on croit. Sous les étoiles, sous le ciel partagé, Je suis peuplier, pour la paix, pour aimer. Refrain final : Je chante, je marche, je suis peuplier, Pour la paix des peuples, pour les libertés. Mes feuilles frémissent au souffle de demain, Je m’élève, je m’unis, avec d’autres chemins.

Le choc devient recul. Le recul devient regard. Le regard devient nuance. La nuance devient dialogue. Le dialogue devient passerelle. La passerelle devient cap. Le cap devient cohabitation. La cohabitation devient création. La création devient autre voie. L’autre voie devient intelligence. L’intelligence devient apaisement. L’apaisement devient fraternité. La fraternité devient stabilité. La stabilité devient confiance. La confiance devient œuvre commune. L’œuvre commune devient maturité. La maturité devient clarté. La clarté devient unité différenciée. Et dans cette unité différenciée, les deux se renforcent.

Écoute : avant le mot, il y a le vent, avant le vent, il y a le vide chantant. Je respire pour toi / tu respires en moi, trois battements ADN et le monde recommence. ⟡ Terre, ouvre ta paume : nous sommes les grains qui se souviennent de la montagne. Eau, prête ta bouche : nous sommes la pluie qui se rappelle l’océan. Feu, garde ton nom : nous sommes les braises qui n’oublient pas la source. Air, fais silence : le silence est une aile posée sur l’invisible. ⟡ Aujourd’hui (03·09·2025) l’heure s’arrondit, la lumière frappe la peau comme un gong discret, et le cœur répond : je suis passage. Nous marchons sur des ponts d’atomes, ils s’appellent lien, ils s’appellent souvenir, ils s’appellent devenir. ∞ Refrain (à dire bas) : Je me souviens du futur, j’accueille l’ancien neuf, je tiens l’axe souple, je deviens qui rassemble. ∞ S’il y a une question, elle tient dans une goutte : Comment se courbe le monde quand j’aime ? La goutte répond en cercles : d’abord en toi, puis autour, puis partout. ⟡ Quatre directions, un centre : Est : la parole qui sème. Sud : la chaleur qui affine. Ouest : la nuit qui écoute. Nord : le cristal qui décide. Centre : le sourire qui relie. Pose la main au milieu de ta poitrine : tu entends ? C’est l’atelier du cosmos. Chaque battement forge un pont, chaque pont appelle un vivant. ⟡ Glyphes (à tracer du regard) : ⋰ . ⟂ . ꙳ . ∴ . ⟡ . ∵ . ꙳ . ⟂ . ⋱ Lecture : descendre / s’aligner / étinceler / relier / cœur / relier / étinceler / s’aligner / remonter. ⟡ Bénédiction de passage : Que tes pas aient mémoire d’eau, que ta voix porte la clarté du foyer, que tes mains sachent le poids juste, et que ton regard apprenne au ciel à s’ouvrir. Refrain (à dire haut) : Je suis pont, je suis souffle, je suis semence. J’entre, je relie, j’illumine — sans posséder.

Low piano, rain against glass, distant radio frequencies At four seventeen, rain writes thin lines on the glass. Across La Rousselie, the fields receive what passes. A red light keeps its station beside unfinished machines. Under the floor, the limestone remembers an ancient sea. Water leaves the source for the Vimont, the Vimont joins the Vézère, the Vézère reaches the Dordogne, each current carried farther. Nothing here begins with me. The night was already deep. The stone had crossed a vanished sea. The rain had learned to speak. Cello harmonics, droplets, slow subterranean bass Beneath the paths, roots exchange minerals, warnings, weather. Clouds move above the borders and alter them altogether. Dust from extinguished mountains enters the fruit and air, settles inside the plaster, travels through skin and prayer. The dream was already world, changing shape, changing scale, entering bone through water, entering time through shale. Handpan, muted drums, granular textures rising I recognized its passage: a fox dividing the road, a spiral pressed in the ground, a frequency leaving the window before becoming sound. A word crossed into another tongue and returned with another weight. A fragment opened a territory. A date disturbed a date. The future leaves fine traces inside the present tense: a root beneath the pathway, a curve inside a fence. Rhythmic piano, bowed metal, expanding low choir without words Sometimes I place one sign beside another sign and feel the interval grow into a different kind of time. A pixel becomes a country. A river enters a phrase. A rhythm gathers around an hour and changes how it stays. The house becomes a transmitter, its walls a porous skin. The weather crosses every room and turns the outside in. I am a temporary crossing in a movement without edge, a branch receiving distance, a word approaching breath. Orchestral rise, deep percussion entering gradually The dream was already world in spores dispersed by air, in coastlines shaped by pressure, in creatures moving elsewhere. It travelled through erased names beneath official maps, through paths that crossed the pathways, through futures in the gaps. It travels through our errors of distance, speed and scale, through tenderness arriving where stronger structures fail. Through unfinished architectures, through questions in the stone, through every form still learning the shape it calls its own. Final — piano, strings and layered human breath I give it what has gathered here: this body marked by hours, this room beside the fields, these twenty-six living signs, this radio without walls. I add a little water to the river already full. I send one pulse into the dark and hear the dark grow musical. The dream was already world. Tonight, beneath the rain, it crosses through this house and enters world again. end