Fall Winds, Dancing Trees
Framed by the windows, the branches rise and fall in the current of wind; the wind's early fall chill enlivens my thoughts and I am young.
Trees, dense, graceful in their rhythm. They remain in place like inverted anchors reaching to a timeless ancient ship moored deep in the earth, holding it against the earth's tidal rock.
Change
So, The Dance of the Wu Li Masters floats up from decades past, a conflux of awareness and memories. Illustrations of a lifetime woven into a tapestry of that illusive observer, self.
Mind so oft confused with self, caged in the passage of time, till corporeal ending sets Mind free, the Eagle receives it.
Mind returns to birth and brings to the divine the sacred experience it creates.
Change.
