“ Once in a golden hour I cast to earth a seed. Up there came a flower, The people said, a weed. ”
Source: The Complete Works of Alfred Tennyson
Trees are poems the earth writes upon the sky, We fell them down and turn them into paper, That we may record our emptiness.
If we surrendered to earth's intelligence we could rise up rooted, like trees.
Don't hold any ideas about yourself or anybody, just look at everything the way it is - you'll merge with everything