A forest of time gone past. A day of fall of seasons long. A man does stand among the mossy grass. A breeze does blow. The trees do sway. Their branches waving. Their leaves afallen in the currents play.
Silent and still with finger tips touching. Ornate robe from honored hands. A calm smile. Eyes closed. A man approaches. Eyes open to gaze. Confucius say.
Confucius: Wind
Man: Movement
Confucius: Trees
Man: Moved
Confucius: Leaves
Man: Parts
Confucius: Purpose
Man: Ornament
Confucius: Seeing
Man: Knowing
Confucius: Known
Man: Past
Confucius: Future
Man: Unknown
Confucius: Predict
Man: Try
Confucius: Trial
Man: Test
Confucius: End
Man: Result
Confucius: Wind
A hand gestures pause with fingers raised. A head tilted downward, gaze turned for a moment. Fingers return to tips. The wind flows between Confucius and the man. Confucius looks up and continues.
Confucius: Sky
Man: Above
Confucius: Earth
Man: Below
Confucius: Man
Man: Stands
Confucius: Body
Man: Self
Confucius: Mind
Man: Thought
Confucius: Sky
Fingers raise again to pause. A slight smile appears.
Confucius: Question
Man: Life
Confucius: Time
Man: Today
Confucius: When
Man: Yesterday
Confucius: What
Man: Question
Confucius: Inquire
Man: Meaning
Confucius: Result
Man: Outcome
Confucius: Search
Man: Look
Confucius: Time
Fingers raise again, tips paused in midair. Confucius gestures to the wind, then to the sky. Fingers return to tips and a slight smile appears.
“Confucius say……
The sky and the wind is thought within.
What is seen is what is unseen.
It all does move.
With movement we perceive time.
But in the still there is no time.
We look up to the sky to see what was yesterday.
We look down at the ground for what is now.
The leaves do move.
The trees do sway.
The ground we stand upon.
The sky above us all.
Life within is seen about.
A reflection you and I.”
The man stood there for a moment perplexed. Closing his eyes he replayed the exchanged, the words brought forth, the explanation that came. A word broke his review.
Confucius: Wind
Man: Wind
Confucius: Sky
Man: Sky
Confucius: Time
Man: Time
Confucius: Life
Man: Life
Fingers raise again.
“Confucius say….
Under a sky we know the winds of time.
We know life.
Within our own sky we know the same.
Either we can feel.
A sky above or a sky within, a life we feel, a time we know.
Both a reflection of life.
Both time and time not.
Both the same.
Time is the wind not the forest.
Wind does calm, resting as well.
Wind knows time not too.
Our wind is but a storm to calm.
A moment without breeze does tell of no time.”
The man paused again to ponder but his thoughts escaped him. A breeze felt across his bare face and arms. The sunlight piercing his closed eyes. The weight felt from the push of the ground. The man teaching momentarily forgotten. The sound of time all around him stopped. The sky within. A breeze just remembered. The sounds of a moment ago. All of it flowing through him. Each touch returning as it began. An echo of life within him.
The man opened his eyes, falling upon the gaze of Confucius. A smile. A simple bow. Confucius turned and slowly walked away into the forest.
The man awakens from the dream.
Zoltan Blue 