Only the wind. There are few entities of the earth that grants us such mobility as the releasing push of this invisible force. It does not tug or tear, nor burn or bubble. A gentle cajole, a tantalizing chill, a whisper through day or night. It persuades silence, while roaring to life. It can give and take. Whittle barren red, brown and white to form deities of fire, earth, and water. Springing forth in an instant, gathering in its embrace the vitality of movement or still the soul with its lack of pressure. Given freedom it wisps about in absence. Confined it shrieks with rage, barreling against and through obstruction. Surrounding us at all times, whether in motion or at rest, the effects are serendipitous. Evaporating perspiration condensed and expelled by tantamount exertion. Gathering its love lifting song from all around, whistling as it flows in and out, above and beneath, against and through. As a child I used to believe it tied directly to my being, when at joy and peace it would envelope me, surround me, pound into me, levitate my soul to the skies. Still when I am buffeted by it I feel closer to spirit, closer to that enthralling entity deep within and far above. Whisking my scarf and whipping it through the sunlight. Warming rays from above falling on skin riddled with goosebumps. Breathless, weightless, want-less, centered and falling into it, there is no here or there nor when or where. Only the wind.
Posted on: Thu, 06 Mar 2014 00:14:41 +0000
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