Rustling leaves remind me of my own
freedom. I see the open sky peeping
through funny formations of clouds. They
are moving. They are changing colors. They
don't have many options so they play
amidst the shades of grey. I wish I could
convey the joy of being one with whatever
that I see. I wish I could take everyone along
on the stroll. A glimpse of it can swallow the
sufferings of the entire planet. Can we see
that? When we can't see, we can't love and
when we can't love, we can't live. Read or
write this in which ever order. It will scream
out loud the same thing. I feel creation is a
constant act of forgiveness. You can only
create when you are able to understand. To
understand is to love. To love is to see. To
see is to embrace. To embrace is to be one.
To be one is to come back home. To come
back home is to be immortal.