Imagine for me, if you will, standing on, and looking down into, a brilliant tapestry of green mosses, and drabber lichens,
Then lifting your gaze to the gothic, mossy, megalith above you,
It is embraced, as it has been for thousands of years, by the great gnarled roots of the mighty cedar tree,
This tree as with all the others in sight, is supported, and lifted to the sky, but captured, by these great boulders,
But it cannot be penned, for the great roots, overflow from this titanic cup of stone,
And the tree has triumphed, thrown off this burden with the unquenchable thirst of life,
It lives now, cradling its former captor, in the ever-growing chains of cedar,
But though it has liberated itself, it cannot split the unbreakable stones that once held it,
Someday, in the far off future, this mighty tree will be brought down to the level of the rock, and then lower,
As its’ strength leaks out of it into the ground, leaving it an ancient husk, the great stones will hold sway once more over the forest,
Over the forest they will tower until the forest can break free once more,
So it is with all life, for a brief moment or perhaps longer, we will rule,
But we cannot chain forever, the death, that waits for us all, just as these stones, it will wait,
It knows that there comes a time when its’ own indomitable force cannot be denied, and it will rule once more, for eternity