The Zephyr ~ (A Stream of Being)

A restless energy overcomes you and you know again that it's Time, so you walk without the notion of going somewhere.  Each movement feels most intentional.

The last sliver of sun disappears from view; the landscape takes on more muted hues. You continue on and on until you are well apart from neon lights and bustling shops and the hums of engines.  A steady East wind swallows the ambient noises associated with human life, while vigorously licking the bottoms of your outstretched palms and the tips of your bare toes.

The loneliness...

The brewing anxiety...

The confusion...

Each time a feeling emerges, it's blown just as quickly back.  The only thing withstanding the mighty gusts is the will to place one foot in front of the other, carving the path with every step.

You are drawn to an unmarked hillside, so you begin to climb.  Your nose welcomes the foggy blanket that engulfs the dry, desert air.  Something new is about to blow in, you whisper to yourself.  You find a comfortable place in the sand and you sit there

patiently,

silently,

until you forget to remember how much time has passed...

The bounteous moon peeks through the thick fog,

Refracting its pale blue light in strange directions,

Illuminating the sand beetle slowly making his way South,

Leaving tiny footprints,

...that disappear behind him.

And then, a sudden shift in the wind

As a new energy flows in from the West:

In that still moment you hear the Calling.

And so you stand between undulating waves --

Orchestrated by the moon's gentle tug,

And the sea of grains which dance to the zephyr's soft breath.

Something makes the pain and loneliness disappear,

Assuaged by the warmth that rises from the Earth,

The sand that moves across your feet,

The fog that turns to warm rain,

The ravens that fly swiftly past,

Calling out a name that sounds somehow familiar.

The emptiness that echoes... echoes... echoes...

Past the ridges and through the gulleys and back to you again.

Pulling you closer to a center that you cannot see,

Towards a song heard only in silence.

You touch the fabric of empty space,

And drink sweet nectar from Jangwa's gourd.

It was there all along --

You were never apart from it.

It exists in a realm that the mind cannot touch;

You must simply listen from a different place

To hear its gentle call: life’s singing bowl.

And you'll see that it cannot help

But flood right in at your feet like the sea.

So dip your toes into the source,

And dance across the shifting Earth

Towards your center.

You need not ask where that is;

Your essence already knows,

What your mind cannot.

There’s nothing left to prepare,

It’s always been ready, waiting.

You must only summon it with your silence,

Allowing other things to come into play.

And you’ll feel things shifting into place,

So effortlessly.

Are you feeling hesitation?

Wait -- you’re almost there!

Take the dial, and turn it down…

Until things get very quiet…

Now, go.

And do whatever it is you already know
You're meant to do.