There’s a door that’s always opening, always closing.
Even with all of the opening and closing, nothing
passes through, not even a sliver of wind.
I once imagined that I was a friend of the wind.
I’d climb to a very high rocky place and raise
my arms up as it swept playfully around me.
Later, I came to the stark realization that the wind
needed no friend. Regardless of any personal hopes
or fears, our whimsical vanities, the wind just blows.
And that door — there’s really no door after all. Nothing
is opening and closing, that’s all a play of the imagination.
We amuse ourselves in so many ways, just like children.
We might say there’s only God, motionless, sublime, and still.
Did I say nothing moves? Here’s the thing — mind moves, even
though there is no mind. It’s just the wind, looking for a friend.