Shantih Journal 3.1 - Page 37

But look away and they haven’t done a thing. Or look at it, but don’t react, and it is gone. The vacuum of thinking, or not, is a form of power. The reaction to a sound never made admits reality isn’t there, owns thoughtful pretense, perhaps shame. Our eyes hear the wind kick up as dancers shiver, slip. Snow-like crepe unfurls, denies a need to melt. 37