Bodies like grass, hearts like fire.
Men grow like grass, repeating an endless cycle of life and death, ancestor and descendant.
Grass tries to reach the sky over the years enduring the harsh summer and braving the frigid winter yet never passing the trees.
Men grow like grass, feeding from the Earth pretending to be an individual strand yet never looking deeper and noticing the subtle connections.
Grass tries to stay alone but relies on others, grass tries to rise over other strands yet does so through it's subtle connections.
In the end grass must return to the Earth never fully being satisfied with itself, then leaving it's desire for the sky with it's grass once again forgetting that was created through it's subtle connections.
Men grow like grass.