The winds, the winds are calling….Who feels their sway? Does your ear point towards the source? Will you listen? What vainglorious tempers will be aroused? What stroke of that nigh-ubiquitously perseverant Ego will mark your view? Do you choose to stay the inflexible rod, deaf to the sound of your own breaking? Or does your nature sway to tides of a world without? Questions arise when answers are sought. Paths illuminated along the way as the labyrinthian search takes you into the darkness of the present. Blind to your own world, Beauty attracts and embraces. It is the All that calls, calls, calls. Please sit down my child; listen. It fans and churns all into their place. At once settled, does thou dare to not sprout and take to the skies, rooted in the singularity of Is? A journey shall be taken, skies shall do as they do, and each step a flashing bridge between You and You, the ripples of time chiding the end and beginning of each artifice of bridgeous onwardity Who can stop the winds of Time from taking into jocund folds the spreadlings of each moment. The lookings into the gaseous fountains of our time shall need be ensued. Selfless goggles recommended.
Raja, Sulaiman, "The Winds" (2016). Honors Theses AY 15/16. 63.