Weißer Tagesanbruch. Stille. Als das Kräuseln begann,
hielt ich es für Seewind, in unser Tal kommend mit Raunen
von Salz, von baumlosen Horizonten. Aber der weiße Nebel
bewegte sich nicht; das Laub meiner Brüder blieb ausgebreitet,
regungslos.
Doch das Kräuseln kam näher – und dann
begannen meine eigenen äußersten Zweige zu prickeln, fast als wäre
ein Feuer unter ihnen entfacht, zu nah, und ihre Spitzen
trockneten und rollten sich ein.
Doch ich fürchtete mich nicht, nur
wachsam war ich.
Ich sah ihn als erster, denn ich wuchs
draußen am Weidehang, jenseits des Waldes.
Er war ein Mann, so schien es: die zwei
beweglichen Stengel, der kurze Stamm, die zwei
Arm-Äste, biegsam, jeder mit fünf laublosen
Zweigen an ihrem Ende,
und der Kopf gekrönt mit braunem oder goldenem Gras,
ein Gesicht tragend, nicht wie das geschnäbelte Gesicht eines Vogels,
eher wie das einer Blume.
Er trug eine Bürde,
einen abgeschnittenen Ast, gebogen, als er noch grün war,
Strähnen einer Rebe quer darüber gespannt. Von dieser,
sobald er sie berührte, und von seiner Stimme,
die, unähnlich der Stimme des Windes, unser Laub und unsere
Äste nicht brauchte, um ihren Klang zu vollenden,
kam das Kräuseln.
Es war aber jetzt kein Kräuseln mehr (er war nahe herangekommen und
stand in meinem ersten Schatten), es war eine Welle, die mich umspülte,
als stiege Regen
empor von unten um mich herum,
anstatt zu fallen.
Und was ich spürte, war nicht mehr ein trockenes Prickeln:
Ich schien zu singen, während er sang, ich schien zu wissen,
was die Lerche weiß; mein ganzer Saft
stieg hinauf der Sonne entgegen, die nun
aufgegangen war, der Nebel hob sich, das Gras
wurde trocken, doch meine Wurzeln spürten, wie Musik sie tränkte
tief in der Erde.

Er kam noch näher, lehnte sich an meinen Stamm:
Die Rinde erschauerte wie ein noch gefaltetes Blatt.
Musik! Kein Zweig von mir, der nicht
erbebte vor Freude und Furcht.

Dann, als er sang,
waren es nicht mehr nur Klänge, aus denen die Musik entstand:
Er sprach, und wie kein Baum zuhört, hörte ich zu, und Sprache
kam in meine Wurzeln
aus der Erde,
in meine Rinde
aus der Luft,
in die Poren meiner grünsten Knospen
sanft wie Tau,
und er sang kein Wort, das ich nicht zu deuten wußte.
Er erzählte von Reisen,
davon, wo Sonne und Mond hingehen, während wir im Dunkeln stehen,
von einer Erden-Reise, von der er träumte, sie eines Tages zu tun
tiefer als Wurzeln…
Er erzählte von den Menschenträumen, von Krieg, Leidenschaften, Gram
und ich, ein Baum, verstand die Wörter – ach, es schien,
als ob meine dicke Rinde aufplatzen würde, wie die eines Schößlings,
der zu schnell wuchs im Frühling,
so daß später Frost ihn verwundete.

Feuer besang er,
das Bäume fürchten, und ich, ein Baum, erfreute mich seiner Flammen.
Neue Knospen brachen auf in mir, wenngleich es Hochsommer war.
Als ob seine Leier (nun wußte ich ihren Namen)
zugleich Frost und Feuer wäre, ihre Akkorde flammten
hinauf bis zu meiner Krone.
Ich war wieder Samen.
Ich war Farn im Sumpf.
Ich war Kohle.

I remember reading
Martin Luther King, Jr's
Letter from Birmingham Jail
Beecher Stowe's Uncle Tom
Mark Twain's Huck Finn
DuBois' Souls of Black Folk
For the first time

The words of Chief Joseph
Sitting Bull
Tecumseh
James Welch
and Alexie Sherman
And others of indigenous kind
Linger like arrows in my mind.

Of course, there's
Gilgamesh's forlorn quest for Enkidu;
Osiris, Amun, Ra, and Seth,
Homer's Illiad and Odyssey,
And Virgil's Roman treatment -
(For whom the gods destroy
We all must learn bereavement).

I remember reading
Milton's Paradises (lost and found)
And Dante's Infernal quest for Heaven
Through the bowels of Hell with Virgil's spritely guide
And up the Devil's staircase with Beatrice by his side.
John's Revelation of Times' End;
And LaHaye's money-making Left Behind
Apocalypses here to chill my mind.

I have surveyed Dead Presidents
Washington,
Jefferson,
Lincoln
Both Roosevelts, Ted and Frank,
And Reagan
And smatterings of others...
Then hopped the bookish pond to read
Sir Winston and some others,
Not the least of whom is Gandhi G,
Taught by the Queen to free his brothers.

I have studied
Moses
Job
David
Ruth
Esther
Isaiah
Jeremiah
The Disciples
Paul
and James
(Ironically,
Though Jesus is the "Word"
He never penned one).

British poets's thoughts,
Tale tellers long-dead
Have found their way
Into my head:
Beowulf and Chaucer
Old moral plays
Shelley and Keats
Cavalier Poets
Scott and Brownings
Burns and (not) Allen
Spenser and Shakespeare
Dylan and Tolkien
Lewis and Auden
And so many more
That I leave on the floor

Western Americana I have loved
Hemingway and Steinbeck, all worth the time,
Mari Sandoz' Old Jules, and
Rolvaag's Giants in the Earth,
Keroac went on the road, while
Joseph Kinsey Howard showed us the West
Lewis & Clark in journals scribed
Their journey west and back again

I can't forget psychology
And so I will digress
Or Sigmund's accusation stays
That I have but suppressed:
Ellis, Freud, and Eric Berne,
Pavlov, Skinner, Thorndike, Watson,
Wundt, and Wm James, Piaget and Chomsky
Then Vygotsky and Bandura put a social spin
on cognitive psychology, and Everybody's in.
Diverging and Converging, psychic students, all
Could never make transaction
'Til Rogers tried to make some peace
But Ellis wouldn't have 'im.

And then, of course,
The lighter stuff,
The popcorn of the mind:
Clancy, Rankin, Carole Keene
L'Amour and Will James
Stephen King and Poe,
Cruz Smith and Leon Uris,
Grisham, Deaver, Cornwall,
Asimov, Bradbury and Herbert,
Carroll and Baum...

Oh but if Abraham father tri-covenant be
Zarathustra grandpa be uh ha Persia ******
hummm...deeply restructuring muchly rooted
of the far reaches and you a free to detail it fill it in
ridicule I'm no scholar not foot noting all detail here now
but of what Hinduism much come from be ya Krishna just so
seems so one like JC to me sure enough differing mission all together be
but here we are and I was talkin 'bout tri-Abrahamic and Grandpa then ******
Remember Moses how 'bout Joseph and sold into slavery; rainbow dreamer in life giving
colours yet till fully fulled out till fully white all over hmmmm....anywho way through Egypt the way;
picked up a few nifty tricks along this way; a little further down Sa Sa Ra town this wall as it is I did mention the roots of the ancients of Afu Ra Ka and the Kemetic's rooted of the Pharaohs there; The book of the Dead hmmmm.... remember where Joseph step-dad of Jesus and Mary and Baby J had fled; I've skipped a few steps but twasn't till Moses started with the books and recorded on pages though too they all could all recite the Torah so too well also; there were some mix ups and a lot of humanness they were not shy about admittance or of recordence of this; let me hit a few punch lines some we know and some um well idk likely not, others may seem strange so, well I will carry some load; some 'wild' Arabs were cut of from 'the promise and or the inheritance' this we all know to well and yet tho when Shaman Master J was a bit dejected by much authority of his own homeland (or more accurately by his Hebrew lineage)  he did say clear his love and message was for Gentiles too should have been inclusive of Arabs then however Rome kinda well we all too know how they needed to politicize that power and dogma and power and love askew ERGO MUHAMMAD!!!! Here is where I need the most help too!!! But I RA NI that's truly me my heart is there with all seven billion be!! I am about good news being good!!! That great big Architect Guy speaks with me; so whatever they say has to be for it is WRITTEN and is plan A no not by me here that way; moving it to plan b or xyz I don't really care; I've read enuf I see and hear differing things than any they about this stuff...J spoke the essence of The Book of the Dead for the Living; the silk road, the salt and gold and such treasure; what ya kidden me what the real **** going down that road was priceless wisdom being conveniently collected collated and studied; thee Essenes by the hmmm 'Dead' Sea in the desert what a ploy huh...raised in a vacuum how 'bout of all available assistance of all time and hearts and loving hands and care; plenty well mentioned lore and mention-able stories of how he got around to all the best mystery schools and pulled nifty loving care wherever he went and by a few other names in other locales; well when a kingdom falls you must blaspheme the beforehand Gods and false worship there so the holy ones who knew it's real worth and understood whom really did the blaspheming and cursing took it all underground worth more than a body and many bodies paid the price to save the surely hard earned...how 'bout OZ say WHAT ; now what this guy on he must do drugs to get this way and surely now but um nah sorry I'd love if I could but say I'm straight at least as wood and yes for a while my trade Ron the carpenter and you'd be surprised what she can tell ya about what seems and what is really straight and how humans as elements go are most like this hahaha and ya I wondered about hiding in plain sight until I figged what I'd do till I got over that **** messiah complex thang that I knew we've been through before and that twasn't going to be the or my thing and I did know too much 'bout heaven so I did need that roll through holy hell ya and Buddha named his son Ball and Chain my number one is 29.5 and it's time to introduce myself!!!;  but she-it say what ya want let me go on when Frank L Baum writer of OZ had a tale to tell; he one happened to be a Theosophist, look up if ya like need I am the type that still breathes ya and he was a bit onto a little about the gold and the big banker thang but that was more cover and decided to encrypt it (a deeper true message) for a more clever way to say and where it could and would grow well deep safely as a children's tale; into the collective consciousness; and he denied for most his life anything 'bout what what OZ really was but in the end, I don't have it here now and  maybe I'll dig it up  lata, but it was not hard for me to decipher, I'm many codes inside out and running backwards myself but it was a dig on Zarathustra or oft more better well known by the Greek as Zoroaster for turning creative and destructive forces into a war in heaven of good and evil and there their's just ain't no concept all the way down to Christianity that ain't got it's roots from there their's as much as JC did try to set things straight and say it is done and indeed it is and indeed we are the ones he one Masterful Initiator and when we do as he suggested then the Hebrew will say it's finally Messiah for all things indeed change with and about us; say again abc 123 not required; If I had a heart mind and brain like the Heart of God and Mind of Christ would I doubt once or think twice and rather be off to see the wizard or priest or pope; when truly only straight within you direct connect you your own wizardry connective-ness to all creation loving click click home home bad dream hypnotic spell be gone; but what about courage once you are realized, you do not doubt once or think twice with the true heart of 'God' and 'Mind Of Christ' and you just do and run into rather than from un hum see; but again not to far away from losing your life (re: the reality of and for Baum at the time) for telling such loving truths to Gods dear children; but here we are and here I am I Ra Ni and we are FREE!!
SO ON WITH ONE AND OFF WITH THEE OTHER FINALLY DISCOVER A WORLD WITH THE TRUTH ABOUT ONE AND EACH OF ONE ANOTHER!!!