Purple

You're in a jungle of Thailand, where tigers prowl, where elephants bathe. Where monks seclude into subconsciousness, where Buddhists bow to man-made men of gold. These are what define the land: the things that no one sees. Like bald eagles in America, their mystery ignites a majestic symbolism. Their preciousness is lack. Thinking inward, you wonder what treasures you  that have been devalued due to constant presence. After all, you live on planet Earth! so rare, so delicate in the scheme of galaxies. Where water drinks like silver, where sunlight highlights days in gold.Where life miraculously sprouted up one morning, or seven. Where exists a place called Thailand, the "Land of Smiles." But its people do not smile because things are good or easy. They smile despite incredible hardship. Heat cannot make them frown, and neither can hate. That is why their smiles are beautiful--little purple flowers fighting an immense gravity. So prevalent, and thus, so underrated.

See that poor farmer smiling? He breaks his back to plant his crop, it takes so much to do so little. You know he spirals into debt with every hoe. Still, he digs the jungle dirt. He is a tiger and an elephant, a flower and a jewel, a peasant and a sage. He is rich soil taken from hard earth, hidden by permeation. He is a rough gem.

Brown

You wake up in a great fog. You love fogs like these; they bring mystery and adventure to your mornings. The blanketing ghost surrounds you. It slowly gives way to reveal a rocky formation at your feet. As it recedes, your environment begins to take shape. Your eyes follow the fog across rocks and down the slope of a cliff into wilderness below. The ghost descends upon a lake, climbs over more woods, then into a magnificent range of peaks beyond. You stand on top of a mountain. What a view! You wonder which animals call these rocky heights the world. And what place will you call it? The thought of ever climbing such beastly formations makes you shiver. You peer into the open air. A few thoughts later, you notice a small pack at your feet, among the brown rocks and green moss. Icepicks, hiking boots, coiled rope, the works...you have everything you need. Now the looming monsters beckon like an obstacle course! Courage takes hold of your ravenous side. Your howl echoes through the gorge. But as you begin descending in pursuit of challenge, you reconsider things. What exactly are you trying to find? Would mounting some great summit leave you better off? Surveying your surroundings once more, you spot a little ridge by the lake. It seems to call you; not threatening, but not wimpy either. It looks ideal. At last, you have chosen your mountain. First you feared the range like some impenetrable wall. Then your urge to conquer took control. Now you wish nothing more than to build a small cabin by the lake, neither low nor high. You do not have to ascend the rungs of glory to experience fulfillment. You are a vine in the rock, a fire in the fog.