The sound of wind

Just this once, the universe emerges as a gust of wind. Twirling into existence from nowhere. It’s energetic, bodiless form striking the branches of a nearby tree.
Exploding into presence.
Pine needles shimmer and shake. Seemingly, without instigation. Howling from nothing, back to nowhere. A dance of existence marching forth. Sounding for the first time.
Alive, exuberant emergent.

The brush moves on to the next tree. The next wind. Solidifying the birth of each moment.

This moment, alone as everything.