What are words but a tool in which to use to express our inner conflicts and desires? They crawl around our minds moving back and forth with every social situation possible. And in that moment they elude to an image or concept of a human functioning in a given environment. How are they practical in nature? Of what use are they among the trees, rivers, mountains and landscape? Who wants to talk in such beauty and tranquility? On the contrary, the mind is looking to connect, and remain still while it seeks, oh, but for a moment, to simulate with its surroundings. This is not a moment or a space that needs to be filled with noise and contemplation. No. Of what use are words if they cannot capture such a rich silence, vitality and quiet abode? Words have their practical use as now as you read, but they can strike fear with a single blow as cancer, Aids, power, death, taxes, etc. Yet they have the power, the power of influence, to persuade those in conflict and sorrow back to where the river runs clear and clean, back where there is acceptance in exchange for isolation. Let us not be fooled, words cannot heal, yes, they can shift us this way and that, but they cannot cleanse that which is stained--yes surely they are a guide out, much like a farmer uses a plow in the fields. The more he uses it, the more he is fed, but he is not cured of hunger. Foreign are words in this organic form, still when sharpened they are a fine tool to get "out" of the things we're "in".