And what of the ideas of each other we hold in our minds? Are they accurate, or are they our reflections in disguise? And this notion that we are separate entities, distinct and apart — is that really true? Would you say that of the cells in your body, and the rivers and stars, or would you say they are interwoven, mutually reliant, and expressive of a greater, perhaps unimaginable joy and need?
The waterfalls were roaring yesterday. We hiked three miles through the thunder and mist, crossing little wooden bridges over rocky streams. The trunks and limbs of the rugged bare maples were buried deep in moss, and out of the moss grew ferns, and the ferns were resplendent with jewels.
We came to a place where a fir tree had fallen across the path. Its mossy base was many yards away, on the other side of the river, white water beneath it. Its top was green. Like us, it might survive for years in that condition.
Palms to bark, we climbed over. The path carried us on. Heaven is love.