That Song

He listens to the whispers of the wind, and he could feel the pulse of the world beneath him

Rooted in soil, yet never truly bound. In all worlds, in all universes, in all dimensions and galaxies.

He is the wind that blows the grass but he is also the grass that is being blown by the wind.

He could see and feel the truth of everything.

Everything is him.

An extension of him.

Time to him right now is not a river flowing forward but a vast ocean in which he could drift freely, touching past, present and future all at once, simultaneously

He is all of them.

The wind, the dust, the water, the gras, the stones…..everything.

So, how could it be easy to awake someone that is intoxicated by this feeling of knowing the truth?!

Yet, each time he is attracted to this temptation, a primal roar that comes from the soul keep waking him up.