When the waters of the Ocean flow harmoniously in the arms of the Wind, there is rhythm.
It is in that rhythm where understanding beyond the intellectual analytical mind resides.
Truth is beyond logic. It is poetry.
Truth is never partial but wholesome. It cannot be defined. It could never be written.
For truth is beyond concepts of “good and bad.”
Truth is an experience without a name. It is felt. Grasped intuitively. It just sinks in without thinking about it.
When the mind becomes empty, void; undisturbed by thoughts and emotions; that is the soil to receive what is real beyond any perceptions. It becomes crystal clear without the dust of words.
Along that celebration of the Wind and the Ocean, the Sun will appear conspicuously in the horizon, to share its warmth without thinking about it.
That rhythm acquires a particular timing “now;” just as when truth has its own time to be recognized.
That warm, cozy sensation is what brings the truthful into something Divine.
For truth is always warm, giving, shiny and embraces all without distinction.
It is like the Sun.
Its own proof manifested in its own light and warmth.