It's The Same Air

it's the same air of our 

allowance -

that which welcomes every branch and blade of grass, and gives itself open, empty, for a birds flight and song. It's life drawn, and then offered back in thankful exhalation. There is no line of division that keeps this from a shared existence, no distance from wind to wing, or the songs note and space provided for it's listening. 

it's all one thing. 

so too we find ourselves amidst and mingled, not apart from the very formlessness that's pressed against us - indeed we are only borrowed form for the sake of this experience, emptiness gathered for the briefness of this lifetime. 

what it is, what it all is - is simply one thing in full allowance to itself, constant in it's giving, never full even in all that it (we) have welcomed. 

nothing is, nor can be,

excluded. 

~

Peace,

Eric