The Power of the Soft Breeze

I am am hosting an anonymous sort of heartbreak– really more of an openness through which the verity of impermanence is drifting. The provenance of this tenderness is unclear, and although this is a familiar feeling, it has taken me somewhat by surprise. That said, I think this heartbreak comes not from attraction or aversion, but from change itself.

There are many things here that I will surely miss; particularly the ineffable power of the place and the physical beauty. It is also incredible, when I remember to reflect, how amazingly fortunate I am to be in this environment, where the deepening of one’s understanding of the mind and its power is truly valued and encouraged.

As I write this, a cool evening breeze is blowing; the smell of a light rain wafting through my window. The low rumble of receding thunder rolls out over the foothills of the Himalaya as the eerily beautiful trills of jyaling music floats on top like a leaf on the soft ripples of a calm lake. I feel utterly alone, bearing witness to unspeakable beauty and contented to rest in this calm pool of tenderness.

the soft breath of the wind
has destroyed my entire home:
this fortress of resentment
no match for its
delicate touch.

the settling dust,
laid to rest by the rain,
paints pictures in the air as it drifts
back to down to the dirt.

afraid of the expanse
I make something out of nothing,
when all nothing ever needed
was nothing.

afraid of the heat
I make nothing out of something,
sowing destruction
as I attempt to un-cook the rice.

there is strength in surrender
and joy in defeat;
there are no other weapons
that do any good.

I owe this moment of strength
to the falling rain
and simmering thunder:
together they have unbound
the fear that feeds
on an open mind.