Man can not tame the land
We strong-arm through life, bending the land to our will. Sometimes it's hard, sometimes the land breaks at our command. Yet the strangest thing happens when we are no longer looking. Elastic memory overcomes feeble human attempts.
Man can not tame the land.
If man can not tame himself, how then shall he tame the land. His mind is fickle, fooling only himself into thinking he has conquered the land. The land laughs at man’s impermanence and his futile efforts to keep the land out of the land.
Man can not tame the land.
The land is not concerned about how it looks from hour to hour, century to century. The wind blows as it wishes, the waves crash without faltering. The land shapes itself, through ever-changing effect. It takes no care for what may rise and what may fall.
Man can not tame the land.
We try to assert dominance over others by taming ‘our’ lands to our will and advantage. We flex artificial muscles, showing each other how untamed we ourselves are. A man may perish, another will take his place in asserting his own time-bound hegemony over the land.
Man can not tame the land.
We suppose we control the land, manipulating it to our pitiful desires. The land laughs as it swallows the dead, taking back what it rightfully owns. Our existence is fleeting, no matter how established the legacy, it is swallowed up by the unrelenting ebbing of time.
Man can not tame the land.
Civilisations are built that supposedly tame our human nature, but to no avail, they too, are unaccustomed to the perpetuity of the land. They crumble, returning to the disorganised order from which they originated.
Man can not tame the land.
