The reflection of the mountain upon the waters surface,
beautiful though it be, is nothing compared to the majesty
of the originator of this reflection.
A simple throw of a stone to the center of the calm water's
is enough to distort this reality, proof that it was a lesser reality
The discerning eye does recognize, the not discerning mesmerized,
the thrower of the stone attempts to break the trance, yet to no avail.
The ripples spread across the mirrored surface causing ooh's and ah's,
yet quickly returns to the calm perfect reflection, the lesser reality
yet again takes it's form presenting itself as real.
Forms of life do thrive under the surface, living in the real.
Occasionally breaking to the surface to show the truth,
yet misunderstood by the observer, who for a moment
glimpses reality, yet the second the life submerges beneath the
surface, the reality disappears.
It is hard to tear the eyes from the reflection, its beauty in itself
overpowering, entrancing in its shimmer. Fear in the heart
that if the eye is turned away, the beauty will disappear, nothing
to replace this reality perceived, only emptiness left in its absence.
The lone voice of the mountain calls out, as it has since forever began.
A voice of power and wisdom, urging and begging all to see.
"I have been here all along, raise your eyes and witness my glory,
seek the power within you, raise your eyes and understand, there can
only be one reality and I have been before you the entire time, calling to
you yet you cannot hear my voice."
"I am here, I am here. Why can you not see?"
The war to end all wars can only be fought on the front-lines of the mind.
The greatest deception they have perpetrated is that we need them. Our greatest mistake is that we believe them.