how does it feel
how does it feel
to be a human
bathed in the wind
like a possibility of anything
feeling just the shell,
the contact surface with the world
feeling yourself
but not too much
too much is pain
how does it feel
listening to the falling leaves
trees going to bed
saying good night
see you tomorrow at first sun
trees also sleep
how does it feel being the nature
immovable, being herself
bracing through the sleep of autumn into the winter
the deep white dream
nature also sleeps,
only its dreams are white and cold
resting for a while
until the new sun of spring
how does it feel
being with and without
being the ears
the sight
the cold
the tunnel
how does it feel being yourself, the shell,
and the wind swirling through your empty space of possibilities
the wind
the sound
Night.
dying is going back to nature, a skeleton
while our soul…
we don’t know
but would it make a difference?
would it change a thing
to the beauty of nature
to add more color than needed?
imagine one day we could choose to live forever;
would you?
is living forever not the same as dying?
but dying before we have ever lived?
Night,
is the day.
Day, is the night.
Life is the wind exhaled through the mouth of eternity;
death is only nature inhaling back the breath filled with our substance.
In the womb of the world’s beating heart, resides our story, the imponderable spirit of this world.
the soul as the wind
blowing between the leaves
of the cosmos.
Axis Mundi.
Magnifico te.