 |
 |
he was becoming a tree he belonged to the myth of the trees trem-u-lous "without permission of the soul" da Vinci said that the tree loved the earth and the earth took joy and delight from the tree's devotion came the gift of the wind and there were others he never really knew to whom the leaves belonged clung to and annoyed the tree ritually pouted once a year retracted favor a fascinating diversion "bloweth where it listeth and thou hearest the sound thereof but canst not tell whence it came whither it goeth" even this failed to placate he used to wander wher there were few trees in the grasses he knew the wind as well as any tree and he' say so he liked to visit he liked to sleep in the visitors bed welcomed to the bright warm aroma