While the winds blow and blow

Notes from the Purgatory

Look at how the winds tumbling across mountains dagger through my soul. And calm it.

Look at the leaves. Their fight against the winds and water. Their fight, a music to me. I, a not so recluse now. Just another stone kept on the path of the winds. Just another fragile stone waiting to merge into the earth.

Can you hear? Can you hear the wind stinging on my skin? The blow of winds through drainage systems and left over trees. The chirping of birds, all talking to each other, all in happy company. The soft quiet upgradation of my AI brain. My fingers tired from tapping. Explaining and explaining.

Why do we explain? I ask. Why do we walk on the mirage of words? Why can’t we just lay back and listen? Why can’t we just write?

While the winds blow and blow.