An Agent I Am

in me the identity of the tree as i look and as i talk i help it send a message of its existence so as the next tree and the next tree and the next from the mountain too i receive a signal that latches onto my inner self and every object in sight the rain, thunder dance of nature i am pulled into the feeling that each object arouses in me a stamp of their message good or bad a storm ensues what a frustration to learn that after all the glory we heap on ourselves we are but mere media for all the forms to project themselves in the world as i look at the tree this drowsy feeling it fuels in me and as i open my mouth the world is stamped with its identity message good or bad the feeling to chop down the other tree arises one tree subtly using me as an agent without me even knowing it me drowned in all the messages i shed tears over world's clashes nature's helplessness of chaos in creation and also the wonder the wonder that some far off planets, stars light years away are using me too as an agent for their ploys their power etched on my trials tribulations the (biological) storms that traverse this little 5' 5' frame the oozing of blood at full moon, the lunatics, the swing of moods, the favours and disfavours thrown around the good, the bad, the world over a frustration to know that i am a mere agent in this whole plane so many things come into play and an innocent me in the centre of all taking all for good, for bad the workings of the gods? i found that prayers and meditation stop these destructive messages from crossing over to the world from polluting our mind, the id stop the world from quarrels, warring yes, quieting the mind would stop them from using me as an agent for their destructive ploys tearing the world into nothingness prayers, yes prayers would douse their desires the desires floating around the world i then become a neutral a buddha in bliss nirvana all the trees, mountains forms in their quiet stop issuing orders for war, quarrel.. desire kept at bay