sometimesihatemycat

Between the cool whips of wind
When life tousles my hair
Raises bumps on my arms
Carries scents of the seasons
And stirs the stuff about me
There are stale stagnant spaces
Moments of waning, waiting
Wanting to add something
But these minutes are full already
And letting that heavy nothing
Hang in the air, alone
Is hardest of all

— April Resnick

Waiting for the Wind, by Drew Hartel

~ by April on September 9, 2013.

Posted in Identity, Meditation, Nature, Poetry, Writing
Tags: Anatta, Creative Process, Emptiness, meditation, No-self, Nothing, Pause, poetry, Time, waiting, Wind, Writing, Writing Process