The Sound of My First Blog
The air is filled with sound.
A breeze gently moves the sky, stirring the stench of daisies as it finds refuge in the spaces between shifting leaves and the incessant circling of a paper wasp. The age-old dialogue between crickets and trees vibrates the air, oblivious to the tiny butterflies covering the road like fragments of dust. Catbird leaves a song behind her, catching the wind as she swoops down for a taste.
Like a preliminary sketch, growth accumulates in one addition of detail, one elimination of structure. The hourglass may be a mandala, so try again, for mistakes are the joy of Now and the sound of knowledge.
Sun beats a familiar tune for the chorus of crackling grass and dry air. The sharp scraping of pen to paper describes The Now, while roots shift the ground imperceptibly as they continue their desiring. Air pulled in by lungs rushes out, transformed by purpose. Feet shift, chair creaks, fingers dance with thoughts elusive. Crow calls out in triumph.
To sit completely still for just a moment, to breathe the ebb and flow of time, to give up expectations and gain even more — these are the acts of growth, the joys of true nature. In this moment there is much, yet I am nothing, all the while life continues its dance.
While waiting for words to flow, there is space to listen.