Dem bones…

So many thoughts passed through this space as I was working on this. Thoughts of the dead time of Winter where everything turns inward and awaits Spring. Thoughts of Rumi talking about roots and the life at the core of the roots and returning to the root of the roots. Thoughts of cold weather inducing aches in your bones. Thoughts of death, the cessation of all forms, the falling away of leaves, the skeleton bleached white in a cold sun, and the meaning of this all.  Thoughts of delicacy and fragileness and how brittle or thin things can be. And then again to the roots or the bones, the very marrow from which all things spring… As near as I could tell, that would be the Great Spirit which breathes life into all or simply recycles it. Then I thought of wheels, the revolving states, and the fact that I’m always gone in the vast beyond. Nirvana means extinction some would say… It’s all in this piece:


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