On return from my adventurous teaching experience in Mexico my first posting is a rather lengthy poem playing off the works of some of my favorite authors: Lao Tzu, Eckhart Tolle, Venice Bloodworth, Deepak Chopra, and Marianne Williamson. I look forward to catching up on all the wonderful blogs I had been following.
a wind it is said is
the manifestation of the Tao
it is everywhere and nowhere
it is visible only in how the world responds
in itself, it is of no substance
it is noticeable in its’ absence and its’ presence
Lao Tzu might say
If on the wind is carried the consciousness of humankind,
what will can change the direction of the wind,
for there is but one consciousness, and many ways unconscious.
Somewhere in the thinking, the non physical human element gets lost.
What would cause be without the shouting mind creating the illusion
that it alone, restrained momentarily by silence, in effect,
can change the face of the wind.
You can not hide from the wind nor leave well enough alone,
unless you box yourself in, bury emotion deep to the bone
limbs of trees creak and stretch in the wind
like old dry arthritic bones waiting for the moment
to snap. then, not a stir nor a whisper,
the willow weeps in silence
nothing moves when the wind lies down
then the rustle of air
that hustles from tree to tree
bush to bush, leaving a wake of
momentary silence in its path,
a precursor, of what’s to come.
everything not tied down shivers
Tolle might say
We seek the familiar, for in the re-creation of what is known,
comfort in the knowing, at least, regardless the pain,
what is, remains in control of the mind.
Leaving nothing behind fills the present moment,
no room for the unknown, nothing to interfere
with the past-future continuum, the safe zone
protected from the winds of change.
what is it really?
a breath of fresh air?
can you taste it, smell it, touch it,
hold it in your hand?
can you capture it
hold it down, change its direction, chase it down?
can you see it
other than a response to its presence?
you can hear it
you can feel it
with the wind in your face
you know you are alive
Bloodworth might say
You look out your window and winter has appeared as if out of nowhere.
In your mind it is cold and bitter, wind swept sleet whipping parallel to a
dullgray wallpaper, and you buy into it, a cutting chill down the spine.
Time to change your condition in life.
Inside where it is warm and of comfort, enjoy a mindless moment. Listen to the music of wind chimes, and the branches of the apple tree tapping on the windowpane.
Time to change your mind about life.
birds dance in the wind
circle, hover, dip and dive
in the wind they thrive
they play it
wind moves water
Chopra might say
If you are who you have been, mesmerized by memory,
you are not who you think you are, for thoughts today
crowd the way to an understanding of who you really are.
When the wind stops, not a breeze, not a whisper of thought.
Silence is the songbird harmonizing with the soul,
it is the sound that carries with it the in-between before and beyond.
Life renewing itself is the wind that calls your name,
catching a glance in mirror of a momentary you,
a reflection in passing
of the essence that remains.
wherever it comes from
wherever it goes
it always runs; hot, cold, brisk and bold
soft, sensuous, subtle, uncontrolled
yet consistent with this whirling dervish we stand down on
the wind swipes upon it ever eastward
scurrying in front of a tailwind in search of dawn
there is nothing that stands in its way
in its path everything bends and bows
wind is change
for nothing stays the same
once the wind passes through
Williamson might say
Beyond the pale,
a parting of the mist
a whisper of a breeze
in the open window
experience becomes a choice
in how we perceive
each and every change
a moment subject
to the winds of time
or simply, another miracle.
the invisible hand of sunlight, the spirit of motion
scrambling from the sea, over the mountains,
across the deserts and into the plains
an unseen force affecting the motion of life
the wind can roar like a train passing
through the brain, or whisper
like a fat cat purring in the sun.
it can blow the seeds of discord and conflict,
or in a cool breeze,
on a hot day,
carry with it
the promise of rain