In the practice of Gesture of Awareness,
we do not cultivate images, concepts,
which could veil reality.¹

I

Coyoté watched Owl intently reading.
Owl tends to mutter while reading.
Today it was more vigorous than most.

Feathers pointed up, swooped down,
swift circles then
and, all the while, full muttering.

Those veils are like the dust
on the window of a moving car
as the sun sets on the horizon,¹

II

Owl slammed the book shut, screeched
then looked up
and straight at Coyoté.
Coyoté jumped straight up, startled
by the sound, then the glare
as if a sun set
glimmering,
scorching.

the landscape so mixing
with the diffused and dusky light
one may not see the road.¹

III

"No one understands Technicolor² anymore!"
Owl exclaimed. "No one!"
Coyoté waited. He knew better than to speak.

Muttering and stomping ensued.
Then, slowly,
calm returned,
quiet in the desert.

"No one!" Owl exclaimed softly.