Sitting silently at Quietude, each moment I hear a different tune. How marvelous!
The brass wind chimes are animated by that which is invisible, ever-changing, always present.
We, too, are animated this way.
The winds of change move us to play a harmonious tune,
Yet we resist, fearing what’s next. Out of tune, we know not the Tao.
At Quietude, I finally realize what animates this bag of bones.