it seemed like the most obvious thing in the world. that we have been made of others. that they run our blood. that we die and fall back to the ground and merge somewhere never really gone only transformed. been here before.when oneness prevails and the bigger earthly story unfolds, you are coddled under the sky. i have most of my faith insured in the highland winds. in the rattling chortling too real sounds.  in passing ancient music, in the glass edged, melodic, rough and trembling voice of air and water and people. something in all of that speaks in ways I don't need to understand because it pulls at the heart strings, pangs at the soul, evokes nostalgia and shines light on past, past experiences, i've heard it before more than i have seen it or touched it because the world is made of sound.