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

curtains dancing

 

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