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Description
     As the sun shines down through the boughs, you know.
     The light reaches you sluggishly through the slick, chill air and you are warmed by it, although this may not be what you're looking for. Regardless, the light reaches you, and you will be enlightened accordingly. Some tatter of thought whispers and drifts on through your mind because of it. It doesn't really go anywhere, but rather drifts on the surface like a massive jellyfish that denies the void beneath it.
     You know not of the sea turtle that will eventually prey on the jellyfish and ruin its shape. What do you know, you don't even like jellyfish. This metaphor is long drawn out.
     You snap to, and for the first time you notice the sound of the gusts in the trees' arms. Walking along this entire time, you hadn't really noticed until now, but now it's there and you're thinking about it. If these trees could be talking, what would they be saying?
     And then you look down and notice the rest of the trees' bodies. The monstrous, empirical trunk that anchors the information body to the ground and keeps everything in line. As hard and as rough as stone, yet as swift and swaying as a reed in the wind. You know it's all perspective and size, but the illusion may as well be reality. The truth is there, in droplets, or so you hope.
     You're losing track of where you're putting your feet as you walk through their realm. It's not defiling their space; they've outgrown it in mind, or were too simple to get it to begin with. You're just a visitor, as ephemeral as the wind that allows them to speak. They take no notice, but you gather strength and firmament simply from being around them.
     The four classics are all involved in the making of these giants, and you can feel it.
     They draw from the slowness and surety of the earth, to keep in place and to listen, and to understand.
     They feel the wind in their many arms, so that they can speak to you and each other. It lends vitality and good spirit.
     They know of the water and drink it in, allowing the flow to let them breathe and operate. No system is faster.
     They understand the blazing touch, and know that it is that which gave them life to begin with. The fire unites.
     They all intertwine, and release something into the world that can be felt in the soul.
     Of course, you're just standing there. Wondering if any of this is true or just conjecture of a diseased mind. Nobody but you can tell for sure, and you're ignoring it for the sake of happiness. This isn't the wrong answer, it's just one of many.
     You yearn to join their ranks. How amazing would it be to feel the power of the earth, and to sway with the changes, yet be immovable? To let your self grow into the sky until you can almost touch the sun and moon and stars. The warmth of the sun would no longer be a burden, but pure bliss. And the night would be a time of revelation and joyous restlessness. Nothing would seem more important than understanding, and understanding would ultimately become you.
     But no. Today and for what should be all time, you're just a funny little monkey, scrabbling for truth in a sea of lies and confusion. A monkey with a shell that you hope is unbreakable, but hasn't really had any stress tests yet. So who's to know?
     You can think about the giants, though. You can admire them and aspire to be more like them. Rest in their shade and ponder the meanings of so many things, share in their endless thought. And one day you might be satisfied.
     Until then, you walk on. Put some footsteps behind you and try to coat the world in your tracks. Know what it is to live unlike the giants, crackle across the earth like lightning. One day you will have roots and know true strength. The strength that comes from having a true center to push in on, to be the only force that makes the many.
     The giants will wait as they always do. Spend your time as fire until you cool and become accepted by the earth.

Description
     As the sun shines down through the boughs, you know.
     The light reaches you sluggishly through the slick, chill air and you are warmed by it, although this may not be what you're looking for. Regardless, the light reaches you, and you will be enlightened accordingly. Some tatter of thought whispers and drifts on through your mind because of it. It doesn't really go anywhere, but rather drifts on the surface like a massive jellyfish that denies the void beneath it.
     You know not of the sea turtle that will eventually prey on the jellyfish and ruin its shape. What do you know, you don't even like jellyfish. This metaphor is long drawn out.
     You snap to, and for the first time you notice the sound of the gusts in the trees' arms. Walking along this entire time, you hadn't really noticed until now, but now it's there and you're thinking about it. If these trees could be talking, what would they be saying?
     And then you look down and notice the rest of the trees' bodies. The monstrous, empirical trunk that anchors the information body to the ground and keeps everything in line. As hard and as rough as stone, yet as swift and swaying as a reed in the wind. You know it's all perspective and size, but the illusion may as well be reality. The truth is there, in droplets, or so you hope.
     You're losing track of where you're putting your feet as you walk through their realm. It's not defiling their space; they've outgrown it in mind, or were too simple to get it to begin with. You're just a visitor, as ephemeral as the wind that allows them to speak. They take no notice, but you gather strength and firmament simply from being around them.
     The four classics are all involved in the making of these giants, and you can feel it.
     They draw from the slowness and surety of the earth, to keep in place and to listen, and to understand.
     They feel the wind in their many arms, so that they can speak to you and each other. It lends vitality and good spirit.
     They know of the water and drink it in, allowing the flow to let them breathe and operate. No system is faster.
     They understand the blazing touch, and know that it is that which gave them life to begin with. The fire unites.
     They all intertwine, and release something into the world that can be felt in the soul.
     Of course, you're just standing there. Wondering if any of this is true or just conjecture of a diseased mind. Nobody but you can tell for sure, and you're ignoring it for the sake of happiness. This isn't the wrong answer, it's just one of many.
     You yearn to join their ranks. How amazing would it be to feel the power of the earth, and to sway with the changes, yet be immovable? To let your self grow into the sky until you can almost touch the sun and moon and stars. The warmth of the sun would no longer be a burden, but pure bliss. And the night would be a time of revelation and joyous restlessness. Nothing would seem more important than understanding, and understanding would ultimately become you.
     But no. Today and for what should be all time, you're just a funny little monkey, scrabbling for truth in a sea of lies and confusion. A monkey with a shell that you hope is unbreakable, but hasn't really had any stress tests yet. So who's to know?
     You can think about the giants, though. You can admire them and aspire to be more like them. Rest in their shade and ponder the meanings of so many things, share in their endless thought. And one day you might be satisfied.
     Until then, you walk on. Put some footsteps behind you and try to coat the world in your tracks. Know what it is to live unlike the giants, crackle across the earth like lightning. One day you will have roots and know true strength. The strength that comes from having a true center to push in on, to be the only force that makes the many.
     The giants will wait as they always do. Spend your time as fire until you cool and become accepted by the earth.