Photo by Natalie
PART I
Does the wind fear change? There’s this expression that suggest is does not. If we know the wind is coming than perhaps we can prepare for its unpredictability; but, is this not the same for people?
I wish the wind could wrap me in its tread and make me invisible as it passes through the rock. Exchange one boundary to impart another. I would not deny the wind that it exists / I no longer need to feel to know it's there.
We however deny the wind's closely held secrets. The fear lay not as us mortal with knowledge / though I wish it made for a more comfortable bed. It takes on legs and rises with suspension.
We require a sleep where we don't rest until we earn our bravery / trusting the wind to pass through us / take with it its power and claim the rock that is rooted. A strong rock grips hard the others surrounding it and makes deliberate the exchange of its boundaries, a most difficult stubborn.
To succeed means its growth is not alone. It trusts its life, its foundation on acceptance. Acknowledgement is its crown, claimed by all who owns each other’s glory, we who pacify the wind.
PART II
One piece is aged, another a little bit newer, the duration that either part will last is uncertain. Its shelf life is not determined by strength of will. Both can be replenished rather quickly by enthusiasm, a good hug, or just a talk. When changes hit, these are the two that once revealed cannot be hidden, occurring with growth you weren't aware was taking place.
When you commit yourself to study, taking on a discipline, you are receptive to information, and it cannot be undone, whether it is used in the practice where it was discovered is not relevant, the information is, and the mind's intuitive catalog retains everything under a tab that it will call upon, without the permission of a paid instructor.
This, you do on your own. Situations have a way of repeating themselves, and you can only recall what difference is once you no longer accept what age would have years ago.
PART III
The bulb of the flower bloomed during a season of mating; there was no other form it would take. Once its pollen has been accepted, its work is complete, and it waits for another season, there is nothing else required of its survival. The chemicals in the earth have robbed the flower its favorite consort. No others have been seen in many a season. An unlikely carrier found it attractive. The flower shed its bulb like a sculpture, and revealed a new form. Now it would be horrible, if this remarkable effort had the opposite effect of turning potential away. In our life, change often does.