@

A cold breeze wisps wintry air,
slowly returning the cycle full.
It reminds me of the tree green cry
as autumn brings the summer’s ending.

Look how moved the wood is, still;
it changes in place while the others remain.
There will be sadness when received the water bill;
it’s drought will shed red, yellow, and brown.

A group mentality is necessary in a cognitive society. With friends in arms, we are stronger. Through this networking spawns an infinite number of new ideas, sights, sounds, smells, and feelings that could not be achieved by a single mind. It is necessary to grow in life, to flex our muscles, and open our arms further in the world. The need to embrace the world is only natural, because we are all kindred in some way, made of the same things, same chemicals, same gifts and curses. We are blood by right, and live among countless beings that have learned the way of the world over millions of years. Our groups have helped us evolve, and have helped us sustain ourselves on this planet.

The essence of the sun shows us, in the emptiness of space, objects of reflection. It shows us that we exist – one thing looking at the other, the other looking back – an infinite respect and understanding that there is something else out there. Do you see the constant back and forth? This is this because this is this. A rose is a rose is a rose, a trinity Gertrude Stein saw all too well.

But if we were to step away from it with a third-person perspective on all things, we would understand the true experience of life, living on a marble of water and fire and earth and wind, the four elements of life that provide self-awareness on an unmeasurable scale. We are blessed with cognitive thought, and cursed with it’s emotional reactions. Love and hate, the strongest feelings we have, are synonymous. It all depends on your connection to the thing, your attraction, your attention. Why do you hate, why do you love? Reasons for this are hard to explain without emotion, without self-awareness.

- projecting interest in the tone of my voice
- Buddhism and motivation
- the sound of trees rustling
- the smell of water and pine
- the life story of my father
- the ignorant future in front of me
- the need to prove myself
- the pessimistic outlook that all good things come to an end

Even the tallest trees
rustle freely in the wind.

Even when the wind dies down,
leaves vibrate memories.

Even when it sounds so peaceful,
silent conversations exist.

I was first exposed to the concept of death when I was between four and six years old. The backyard of my home was the battleground for my education. The lawn was large and green and full of life. Frogs, toads, and little animals and bugs ran free in the lawn, keeping the place natural and healthy-looking. It was beautiful. The flowers and plants were a nirvana for most of the small animals, including myself. You could truly feel the positive glow of it all.

I used to help my father mow the lawn. Imagine the horror that these little creatures beneath the grass felt, seeing a massive metallic blade spin overhead, sucking everything into its path. I didn’t realize the scope and grandeur of our work on the lawn until I sat there one day, on the newly cut grass, enjoying the smell and feel of it. To my right I noticed a frog hopping with difficulty. He was a victim of the blades. He was bleeding a greenish yellow puss from under its belly, and its eyes were wide and blank.

I didn’t want to pick it up; it was gross. I simply watched it from above. I was so young, and ignorant of the truth. I didn’t see it die. I saw it give up. Its breathing was labored; it was trying to keep its motion fluid and find solace in the trees nearby. Wouldn’t you want to lay your body down in the comfort of the forest when you realize your life is ending? But it stopped, and it just laid there, within arm reach of me, among the clover patch and freshly trimmed grass. I crawled over it and watched it lay there. It was such an innocent situation to witness – a little boy on his hands and knees, head hanging below his shoulders, looking at something on the ground, waiting for something to happen. Nothing happened. I looked at his face for signs, but saw nothing. That was the first encounter.

A cold breeze wisps an overcast sky
into winter’s air, slowly returning.
It reminds me of the tree green cry,
as autumn brings this season’s ending.

Look how moved the wood is, still;
it changes in place while the others remain.
There will be sadness when received the water bills;
its drought will shed red, yellow and brown tears.

Nature’s agreement with the Earth is a reflection of the Earth’s agreement with the Sun, along with every other planet and every other sun in the galaxy. Galaxies hold unfathomably grandiose agreements with one another that have, can, and will break, from time to time. This breaking of agreements is constant, and when it happens, limitless new agreements come to pass. Time will pass, and your agreement with Nature will act in this chain.

We agree with Nature, disagree, and continue to live and die by its rules. We make agreements with one another and break them. We hurt nature when we break our agreements. Rain and thunder and wind and heat fill the cracks where agreements once existed. We as a race must learn to honor our agreements with one another, and with nature. Everything in agreement will move with confidence behind our conviction.

"Mystery of the Universe" by RASSOULI

We are what is in between the space between all other things,
Light and substance shining in the nothingness of the everyday.
We among the stars and dust and suction holes to nowhere fast,
Between what naturally is and what naturally isn’t.

We are the balance, the focus and flow of the universe.

On the empty canvas of our minds we can change nature,
Science and imagination changing every thing we cannot see.
On the forefront of discovery, years pass like seconds
In the sup-atomic dance hall of galaxies exclusive.