The TALE of the TREES

The tree as a fable of the mind is given its story when we see it rush by our car window--immediately personified, & given its dignity as we jest that it is a reflection of us. I am literate so long as the impressions I sought just this one time led me to embrace this mystery. The yellow-green-brown matter looking like a lack of pulse - and at once circumambulates from its core as we have witnessed through time, remains in a master's teaching what is ever to be sentience on earth. Krishnamurti seems satisfied that the no-struggle to find ourselves the observer would lead to the dream that is life. The threshold is the awakening. And the tree changes its mood as the observed i.e. the yawn of the day gives out currents of shadows, twitches of its limbs from wind, & a nod toward the sun.