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Rhythm of Thought

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That day, I saw the man in the dark, under the tree. “What are you doing there”, I asked?
“The fruit of the tree is the moon that shines. I must go up there and get it, for darkness is in my house”, he replied.
I looked again, but there was no moon on the tree, not even a fruit. In the confusion, I imagined what he wanted to achieve.

He told me that the journey to find the light took him to many lands and that he has finally found his resting place.
I looked at him again and saw the rope that will take him to the moon.
I went closer.
I gave him honey. He liked it.
I told him that the moon does not live there.

I took him to the mountain where I showed him the pictures illuminated by the soft light of the moon.
I saw tears in his eyes and he agreed that suicide was not an option.
He cried and told me that he loves flowers.
I love flowers too”, I said.
He reminds me of the flowers in the old woman’s garden.
She waters them from her heart.
Flowers of peace!

Life is like a flower, if we took the heat away.

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