The blowing snow of the blizzard shows me your movements. It is the closest these eyes can get to your formlessness.
With robustness you move, totally unpredictable, coming from any direction with force. Whirling, swooping, charging, blasting, … careening crazily all over. What else in existence moves with such power and abandon?
The house creaks. I know that you could rip out all of these buildings and other forms and reduce them to heaps of smashed attachments…houses, cars, boats… our very bodies.
Where are the birds that usually wing on your quieter movement… the duck, seagulls, the sparrows and jays? Those most at home in your element now seek protection from your vigor and are nowhere to be seen.
The blowing snow of the blizzard shows me your movements. It is the closest these eyes can get to your formlessness.
I bow to your wonderful wildness, O Vayu, and am thankful that as my breath you have a gentler side.
