Recursions

The ice is creaking, until it melts, drop by drop, wave by wave. A ship overloaded with thousands of pieces.

You don't know who planted the forest. Nor who cleared it, planed it, built something from it, lived in it. But when you burn it, you get heat and then, power.

Everything is transformed from everything else. Forms create new forms, durable, habitable, consumable, larger and smaller, and smaller, until they loose their form, again.