On top of the green infinite mountains stands a man no older than eternity talking to nature as the soft whispers of the wind echo in his ears, telling him of a time before man, where nature ruled in harmony around the globe.
“But whose law were you under oh wise one?” asked the man through the voice of whispers. No response resounded in his ear this time and so he asked again only louder.
But once again the mountains gave no response and the wind stood still just as the innocent clouds above. The man started to get annoyed at the mountains and so he shouted “Tell me whose law were you under oh living breath of the mountains!”
The wind did not respond, but the innocent clouds started weeping gently onto the mountain, slowly drenching the blades of grass which now bowed down as if to please the gentle sky.
The man unsatisfied and now soaking wet decided to build a fire in order to stay warm and protect himself from the storm which was about to come. He furiously cut down a tree and built a small fire underneath an overhanging cliff.
The rain furiously roared even louder now and the blades of grass danced to the tune of the drops as they fell from the heavens and dived deep into the earth.
The man not pleased with the lack of obedience the wind had shown, now sat around the fire getting sleepier and sleepier until it burned out, and the man fell gently into the deep illusions which dreams bring about a mortal soul.
He awoke to the sound of birds singing as the morning sun rose up from behind the bleach horizon and chased the night away with its holy fire.
The man feeling apologetic for his behavior decided to ask the wind once again but this time a little hesitant: “Oh gentle breath of life, I only wish to know who your ruler was before man came to being…”
The wind rushed in from the waves of the sea, hurled down from the blowing clouds, whistled through the blades of grass and spoke thus:
“Nature cannot be ruled oh gentle soul, we offer you the fires in which you burn, we offer you the water in which you drown, we offer you the dirt in which you bathe, and we offer you the green which only poisons you to a point of no return.”
“But don’t be fooled my gentle soul for this is not our intention, we offer you the fires for warmth, we offer you the water for your eternal thirst, we offer you the dirt as soil for your hungry stomachs, and we offer you the green for your foolish minds.”
“My gentle and corrupt man, who rules you? Is it not your stomach which demands to be fed, is it not the heart which demands to be loved, is it not your thoughts who demand to be explored, or is it not the rain which made you build a fire, is it not your birth which made you breathe?”
The man feeling defeated and condemned to an eternal struggle for survival with his only purpose being to keep his body alive as if it were weighting him down, just gave up and decided to lay down on the cold grass.
“Oh now don’t be a fool,” whispered the wind. “Who are you? Are you not your stomach? Are you not your heart? Are you not your thoughts?”
“I no longer know” sighed the man.
“Good” said the wind as it picked him up off the ground and lifted him up into the clouds.
“You have no control over the beat of your heart just like you do not have control of the rain.”
“You my dear soul are not even aware of your breathing for most of your time alive, you don’t even know how you grow your hair let alone move the sun”
“Why are you worried of who is in control, when you great deceiver know that deep down it is the same you which grows your hair, beats your heart, moves the sun, blows the wind and grows the grass underneath your very feet.”
“You godly one grow your hair so effortlessly, just as you move the stars. Is that so hard to believe?”
“You are the eyes with which the universe stares at itself with, you are to the world just as a leaf is to a tree, and a wave is to the ocean. You were not brought into this world from an outside place, you see, you grew out of it. You are a symptom of the creation of stars, you belong into this world for it is your eyes which give meaning to the sun, it is your perception which makes anything exist, and if you were not here my sweet deceiver then we would seize to exist”
The man overwhelmed with such knowledge felt a great deal of responsibility to keep things in order, he decided to go down to the people living their lives below and tell them of his findings.
But the people were so wrapped up in the games they invented and cared more about who was going to rule them then seeing themselves as simply an expression of the universe. And so he walked back up to the mountains, closed his eyes and breathed out for the last time. Just as his final breath left his body, a flower nearby inhaled deep. Just as his body began merging with the earth beneath him, he became part of nature once again only to leave his thoughts behind and act purely of holy will.
The rain began falling once again but this time, falling ever so gently, singing songs of ocean dreams and endless gratitude.