5:27pm
winds been blowing all day long
disrupting little outside
distracting me endlessly
imagined what it might feel like to be
rooted to a place
subject to being blown upon all day long
whether it was wanted or not?
do trees mind they are at the mercy of a strong wind or too much rain that might erode the stability of the soil they root within?
lightening has yet to strike any of these trees I call siblings
or do they simply live in the flow
even though they aren't water or air
at peace with forces that destroy and nurture
reminded each spring: without water and air they'd not exist
the view from this window of mine
static and ever changing
a picture of duality, chaos, harmony, life beginning, and decay
that feeds life by recycling, transmuting and transforming infinitely
green, green, green, and mottled brown-grey bark, and silver on the youthful limbs where light hits just right the slender bare maple
a piliated woodpecker enters stage left in search of grubs
a robin scopes the grounds for worms in the spotty patch of grass
earth brown and peppered speckled sparrows streak the red brown earth darting for the cover of exposed roots between frenzied ongoing searches for what we all need
Chi. Energy. Love. Food. Source. And always in need of another meal of it.
I'm not feeling very buddha-like today as the gloaming approaches
I'm not experiencing myself as very original as I regurgitate questions asked by the legacies before me and consider confusions that will remain so.
Oh I know the questions and the best answers and most days I believe them to be universal truths. And then there are the days
I'm sliding backwards toward my human-ness after a night with God.
