The Old Tree

The Old Tree.jpg

The old tree was standing on a hill. The wind went through it’s leaves, the birds jumped around on it’s branches, there were insects piercing into it’s trunk. It didn’t care. It was just the way things were. It had water. Earth. Sun. It was all it ever needed.

On the hill it had been standing all it’s life, as natural was. It was part of the hill, and almost as big under ground as over ground. Under ground sometimes a little creature touched it’s roots. Sometimes some worm dug into them. It didn’t care. It was all part of being a tree.

Today a man came along. He was measuring it’s trunk. Looking at it. He even made a cross in it’s skin. It didn’t hurt. Things didn’t really hurt when you’re a tree. It was good being a tree.

The next day the man came back. He cut the tree down. It didn’t really hurt either, but it was not good. It was not good at all. When the man pulled up the root, cut it into pieces and carried it all away, the tree’s life was over for ever.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plant_perception_(paranormal)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plant_perception_(physiology)

Under Ground

Like a Drop in the Sea

Like Drops in the Sea.jpg

He was hanging from the tap he had been born out of. Hanging. Hanging. All he ever did was hanging. He liked hanging. He was made for hanging, and he never would stop hanging. He thought.

Underneath him there was… A surface. It seemed to be of the same substance as him, only bigger. So much bigger it seemed to follow other rules. Other ways. He could not imagine this big surface hanging like he did.

He was scared of the surface, but at the same time it intrigued him. He felt an urge to join it. To explore it. What was the Surface? Why was it there? Where did it come from?

He fell. Fell towards the Surface. He met it. Felt an impact. There was something underneath the surface. More of him. There was no longer him and the surface, it was only him. He was the surface, and the surface was him.

Some day he would be part of other drops like the one he was before. He would be steam, he would be ice. Some day he’d be part of the sea.

https://twovoicesinonetransmission.com/2017/04/29/cyanide-soup-for-the-soul/

http://www.mindbodynetwork.com/article/the-number-of-minds-in-the-universe-is-one

Beyond Faith and Reason

 

 

Alone

Alone.jpg

The Moon was looking down on Earth as she always did. He was different these days. Lights everywhere. New things were orbiting him as well, just like she did. It was nice. It was lonely out there, all she ever had of company was rocks crashing violently into her.

One day a new object moved up from earth. Another satellite, she thought at first, but it was heading straight towards her. It landed softly, unlike like the brutal meteors. In a friendly manner. She’d never known anything like it.

A creature came out. A strange little being in a white suit of some kind. He stepped clumsily down on her. It tickled. Another followed. They jumped happily around with such grace, such beauty. He pinned a stick in her. It stung a little bit, but she didn’t care. He could do what ever he wanted.

After a while they went back into the little metal thing they had arrived in. It started shaking, flames came out of it. It burned her a bit, but she didn’t care about that. She didn’t want them to leave.

No. Please don’t go! Said Moon, but they did not listen. She saw them going back towards Earth, always so blue, green and full of life. How lucky he was, never alone. Maybe one day they would be back. Maybe, if she was lucky, they would even stay.

If she only shone bright enough.

https://www.cnet.com/news/man-in-the-moon-formed-by-magma-not-asteroids-data-shows/

http://www.headstuff.org/2014/07/three-micro-fiction-stories-moon-landing/#prettyPhoto

Humans