Other caves have wind blowing in them and the wind makes its own sounds and announcements. Some are comforting like a lullaby and others sound fierce and angry pounding the walls of the cave and wanting out. It makes the one in the cave want the same thing. The wind can blow from the outside in or it can blow from the inside out. The wind goes where it wills and wishes. It carries sounds, dust, particles, and secrecy from one place to another. It rarely gives up its secrets but just blows them by us to cause wonder. There is an abstract drawing by the wind and we are allured to follow and seek the source of the breeze, the breath and draft that is blowing our way. We actually start to think we can hold the wind by our discoveries and we soon learn the wind holds us, we do not hold it.
Yet other caves have the past remains of campfires, bones and implements of another generation. The past inhabitants leave little to tell of why they were in the cave. The only clues are history and time. The cave only tells of a generation past. There is nothing that speaks of the present. There is nothing current or obvious. Everything is old and used. There is death and the past in every corner of the cave. The blackened walls add to the darkness of walking into yesterday. There is a yearning to look and know and explore and inspect but it is taken over quickly by a desire to go back out into the light and into today, into the now. We decide to leave yesterday in the little piles of bones, little burnt sticks of wood and cobwebs of the past. Only the cave knows their secrets.
“Make sure that the light you think you have is not actually darkness.” Jesus