Stilled the mind 
trees dissolve into the ether of day 
they are 
but they are what
we are 
but we are what 
no different 
and only here when day presents its being 

others say their meaning 
are we here 
if nothing else were here
we would cease to be 
we're only here as a complimentary
opposite
to not being

as all is such 
no words describe what is
they're abstract 
all in the mind of humankind 
concocted letters composed in rows 
or backwards
upside down 
our stretching out of thoughts to find a truth 
that never can be found
our psyches continually confound