The Air
The Air
Giver and sustainer of life, I honor you; you sitting in your invisible place in the skies, waiving your magic wand, slithering up the mountains, through the valleys, across the plains to the who knows what and where.
If I could see you, I could see your eternal network of lines moving together like a unified flock of geese, the busyness of Mother Nature that you are.
Since I can see right through you, you are transparent and insignificant, but you know that you are powerful and vital to life. You sit at your throne and smile through the lips of the honey-suckle and at other times push the angry seas high upon the shores and ravage the nearby villages.
You can give life and then take it away with your random thievery. You can blow your frigid breath at us and gloat in our suffering, or you can cradle us to your warm bosom and sing us love songs. You can instigate our rage or soothe us with your gentleness.
Our temperament, we owe it to you. If you are filled with slander, we use it to retaliate. If you are filled with love, we reciprocate it. If you are filled with intelligence, we lift ourselves up and take some of it.
Unlike heaven with its invisible benevolence, you are life blended together with its sweet and sour herbs.
Even if I can’t see you, I can feel your presence. I can feel your breath on my face and I can see the leaves on the trees dancing with you, for you are the air; the mysterious, invisible, significant, commandeering one that you are.
From the book entitled, "A Sage's Diary."
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