Time for a Zen
The blade of grass stalking in the clump of grass seems hidden from the sun yet it is there it has to be there to get the clump in total harmony only once will it preform and then it dies a paradox of all Eternity is compressed in solid form and loved turning its complete finite selfless being into one part of the whole nine yards. Ten yards of grass becomes the place of all the living creatures and the Army marches outside the Parapets and along the walls. When battle is engaged the Army only ripples aching at the loss of some of the men. They stop to blow the music then continue after they bury all the dead. After the Army marches away the grass withers turns yellow and dies becoming the mulch under the roots to make more grass to build another nine or ten yards of grass upon the battlefield of GOD. Without the grass without the love the Army marches on.
