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­­­­ The graces that nature forever shall bestow are found by human in eternally blessed soul. To be, and to be in awe of the many natural beings: the wonderment of form that inspires movement in every way- a sentiment of divinity. Can we hold this forever in mind or is it found only where human and nature intertwine? Perhaps we should ask and seek ways to keep our nature in glory above all else we may speak, so that in times of blindness and unmerciful fright, we might know better how nature can strengthen our minds when weak.

On Eleusian shores, in gardens without thorns. Need we shroud nature in fantasy to wonder at its mysteries? The myriads of flowers blooming upon time's shores, what are they? The stars and orbs, shimmering comets and deep blue colors. Imagination springs wonders always beyond what was known, or else a visitation, again in wonders that demonstrate the promise of grace and prompt the arts. The human stars that shone through time lit path of aspiring mind toward the aggrandizing construct of what is divine, by arete, convergence, will, and time, to help nascent mind, ever-present, seek and find.

The choice in interpretation left for us to decide. There was choice in nature. Choice to interpret the cold as dire in naissance or in need, or as settled in numbing, but not destructive to creed. The water may be intolerably chilling or refreshing by contrast to the hot sun. The rain, annoying or quenching. That we might derive from it natural laws that reflect our choosing, naturally, and increasingly so by training and exposure. There are many ways a plant may grow, depending on the position of the sun and the nutrients in the soil. We look for answer in nature, and there we find: a reflection of human, not natural mind. But, from listening to ourselves, we may find nature's rhythm as if it were divined.

True tales were not just read- they were tomes to come back to again and again. Another trip to the infamous founding, sounding pond- let's hearken again to the fields where we'd slept under starry night skies, floating in the wondrous abyss of varying mind, infinitely more vast than tones can be tasked to find. Music filling uniquely with emotion birthed by resonating meter: a reflection of our varied selves, buried or renewed.

It was the cool, soothing winds that woke David from his canopy dreams. High above the ground in one of the ancient trees, he laid securely resting on the vines and rope he'd fastened between sturdy limbs. The cool winds on his back that rocked him gently in the sky induced a sensation of weightlessness that enlivened David's waking soul, and he shivered in sweet morning blessings as the sun's warming rays were embraced in body and mind. The warm wisps of air found between the cool breezes gave the sense that this would be the spring day when the sun finally pierced the remnants of winter's keep and vanquished all traces in mind and body of those biting realities.

David opened his eyes to find a blue morning sky in pastoral orange hues lining the clouds, and the sounds of a warming wind rustling the leaves. He stretched and closed his eyes again before cuddling up with memories of his marvelous, colorful dreams. Blues and greens in vibrancy and the calculus of gravity, in a rehearsed adventure from the highest of trees. That his soul might soar in such ecstatic joy- twirl, adventure, and all in delight- gave him such elation that he was anxious to remember and employ similar spirits in his waking life. Alone here, amongst the breeze, the great luxury of being safe and undisturbed in moments of heightened creativity. Time to be engulfed in all of the graces felt in the soul, in leisure by nature's pace and sanctity.

With the exciting dream spirit embraced, David opened his eyes to the light-blue sky, and sat up to begin a new day. On the horizon, the miniscule, distant sea was choppy and pale green in the bright morning atmosphere. David grabbed a taught vine with his right arm at his side and from his sitting position shifted his body so that his sturdy arm held his weight before bending his knees from their straightened sleeping gait. With his feet placed firmly upon the swinging twine, he formed his left hand as a slingshot and grabbed the standing rope he'd hung. With the virtuous certainty of a well-formed youth, David pulled and held his weight up with one arm and stood on the uncertain tightrope to admire his view.

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