Go meditate on that…

For me it’s as much about what isn’t there as what is there. Maybe more so.

My old wind chimes in Wales are weathered and worn, hanging by a thread, almost ethereal, other worldly as they hang in their own small cosmos of suspended sound on a background of shadowed time. Another set of chimes upon that wall, as real as any other, silently chiming their tune to another’s dance.

Such a sunny evening, warm gentle breeze, the sun casting shadows through that nuance of a holly tree, the one that drops brown thorned leaves all summer through.

That nuisance of a holly tree.
No matter, I’m in Nirvana or at the very least Shangri-la.

Listen to them sing their tinkle songs.
See how their shadows play upon the rich cream wall.
Upon another reality.

Now, I’m no Buddhist but with all this serenity going on, well it can’t do any harm can it?. Om Mani Padme Hum. Om Mani Padme Hum. Om Mani Padme Hum. Ommmmmmmmm...

Go meditate on that I say.