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The Weather of Being

Blue skies are seldom vacant. A diversity of elements are eager to occupy the vast heavens.

Whether it is the constant wind stimulating the air with varying direction and vigor

Or the wooly bands of cirrus clouds draped across the sky, like a worn and wispy comforter

Or Tasmanian devils of wind acquainting hapless denizens of Earth with its counterpart, via whirling funnels of rage

The boundless Firmament sets the stage for them all.

It is a realm not unlike the celestial vault above our head which comprises our true Essence within it. If thoughts are birds, joy is the shining sun, and despair is an ominous mob of coal-black clouds whose transience eludes our senses, then You are the supernal backdrop that graces all which passes through your infinite Presence.

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