The winds of change blow over the sea of hope as we ride the heavens high above.
Forever searching for the isle of dreams, forever looking, forever scanning the horizon.
But for most of us, it's in vain it would seem, for the isle of hope, is nowhere to be seen.
But for some, a glimpse is enough, to stretch out one's hand, and snatch at its thread.
It's all it takes, it's all you need, for if you do it, you're sure to succeed.
(Anthony T. Hincks)
Change is here, it arrived like the winds, sweeping and caressing everything, whispering and shouting the message they have been passing since the first of days, sharing their everlasting knowledge of everything that was and has been, everything that is and shall be.
The winds have always been there, they know all there is to know, they have been there since the beginning, they are here now, there shall always be here.
The winds, where do they come from, where do they go?
The winds stem from all four corners of mother nature, they come from the mountains, they swirl from the seas, they storm from the deserts, and blow from the jungles. They are here, and now, always. They are always coming and going. They are nowhere to be seen. We can always feel them.
They present themselves with aeolian tonalities, or through the fierce blows of the autumn gales, or with the blinding rage of a haboob, or the gentle blow from a sirocco, as a spontaneous squall, or the grave tones of wuther shaking us inside out, or with the slightness of a western zephyr.
They bring with them the gifts that the mountains, seas, deserts and jungles have for us to ascend,
to be everything we are.
The winds coming from the mountain bring with them the clarity we require to trust everything that was, is and shall be, surrender to our higher selves, become whole again,
to be everything we are.
The winds coming from the sea set us free from everything that is holding us, release us from our attachments, free our spirit from everything we think we are, gives us freedom from it all,
to be everything we are.
The winds coming from the desert quiet our minds, bringing with them the silence we require to cease to think and start listening to our hearts,
to be everything we are.
The winds coming from the jungle bring with them the ancestral memory long forgotten, required for us to remember who we are, reconnect with our own nature and our ancestral wisdom,
to be everything we are.
I believe and so it is/
Yo lo Creo
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