Sailing west

If there is a Creator, than he created it all in such a way that he can listen to the resonance of his creation in the hearts and minds of its creatures. Human beings have the gift of sending a poem, a work of art, a scream, a fist of helpless agony, an open hand, a working hand back with the outgoing stream op expression. The real emotion, the real feeling is however in the in-breath. Sometimes one can be cut off from the in-breath. Sometimes one is unaware of the secret of all religion: that it is before all and everything an in-breath. A movement outside in, before all creation. Now fulfilment can at last gets its proper meaning. The idea that before anything happens, before one screams for the first time in one’s life, there is the in-breath, the filling up one’s being with the whole world around. Then in the end of one’s life there is the last out-breath, the last giving back, the last resonance of a live lived. A life that was given breath to live to the full, the live that is how crooked it may be always is the resonance of God’s breath. If there is a self that awakens to this, then in Hidegard von Bingen’s words it’s a feather on God’s breath.
It is not difficult to enjoy the play of the falling leaves in this glorious autumn, when one sees oneself as one of this leaves.
Now Namo Amida Bu is the space that opens and makes breathing possible, the infinite space of the mercy that is given with the breathing of an measureless being. The soft autumn breeze in which one can dance and sing little songs of happiness, little songs of innocence:

Everyone who loves poetry carries a few favourites, this is one of mine that came to mind from Blake’s songs of innocence:

"The Nurse's Song"

When the voices of children are heard on the green
And laughing is heard on the hill,
My heart is at rest within my breast
And every thing else is still

Then come home my children, the sun is gone down
And the dews of night arise
Come come leave off play, and let us away
Till the morning appears in the skies

No no let us play, for it is yet day
And we cannot go to sleep
Besides in the sky, the little birds fly
And the hills are all cover'd with sheep

Well well go & play till the light fades away
And then go home to bed
The little ones leaped & shouted & laugh'd
And all the hills ecchoed

This could be the comment on the poem:

This is a poem of affinities and correspondences. There is no suggestion of alienation, either between children and adults or between man and nature, and even the dark certainty of nightfall is tempered by the promise of resuming play in the morning. The theme of the poem is the children's innocent and simple joy. Their happiness persists unabashed and uninhibited, and without shame the children plead for permission to continue in it. The sounds and games of the children harmonize with a busy world of sheep and birds. They think of themselves as part of nature, and cannot bear the thought of abandoning their play while birds and sheep still frolic in the sky and on the hills, for the children share the innocence and unselfconscious spontaneity of these natural creatures. They also approach the world with a cheerful optimism, focusing not on the impending nightfall but on the last drops of daylight that surely can be eked out of the evening.
A similar innocence characterizes the pleasure the adult nurse takes in watching her charges play. Their happiness inspires in her a feeling of peace, and their desire to prolong their own delight is one she readily indulges. She is a kind of angelic, guardian presence who, while standing apart from the children, supports rather than overshadows their innocence. As an adult, she is identified with "everything else" in nature; but while her inner repose does contrast with the children's exuberant delight, the difference does not constitute an antagonism. Rather, her tranquility resonates with the evening's natural stillness, and both seem to envelop the carefree children in a tender protection.

This was my association today. I like to share this with you in love and friendship.

Leo, your brother in foolishness.