This Wind
6/8/2024 weather unpredictable
This Wind Con/Jur/d, 6/8/2024 This morning we bowed to the wind Oya Yansa, the personification, of something unknowable intimately so branches, move as if by their own volition, a leaf makes a louder than expected impact against the wind - ow where we’ve been sitting zazen, on a three legged stool, surrounded by the meeting room smells of dust and old wood, even the Oracle, matches wind and wood this way A Gentle Penetration the invisible permeates everything, everywhere the wind moves in the wind moves out later, alone in the bathroom before the wide mirror, we realize we’re making sounds grunting, sighing, singing god songs forming breath vibrations passing through the substrate ripples on absolute silence signaling, nothing, no one eya fefee eya loja the air stirs SHHHHH can you hear it?
Much love,
Con/Jur/d, 6/8/2024
