The Love Song of Slava the Tree
(I don't know who wrote it)

There once was a Slava. He looked. Yes, he looked. He watched. He had much to say, but he knew none of the words mattered in any of the languages knew--the pretty words, the ugly words-- so left them and just looked instead. He'll talk if you sit him down. But usually, he'll just say enough so people don't notice. 'less you get him alone and look back--then....

You see, they say he used to be a tree. Just standing and watching. Swaying in the air, digging into earth, growing very slowly and quietly, and loving in that reserved silent way that, if you listen, can be deafening.

One day, Slava the tree decided to find out what else was happening out of his sight. For, fascinating though that hillside was for those few hundred years, it was time to take man-form and roam. Secretly, he liked speed--knowing, of course, that it was somehow the same as stillness. And, he could move. He would go so fast he was invisible. He would move
across the countryside just trying to see how much of the earth he could see in one moment. What was happening here and what was happening there? He went. He watched. With terrible presence that would stun human or tree if they could only see him.

After awhile, Slava saw there was nowhere else to go. So he stopped, but not to be still. But not to move either. So, now they say he lives in that lovely inbetween. He is the union of fast and slow, like before and after, and every other opposite. I heard if you look at him the way he looks at all of us, you will see what is as well as what is not at the same time. They say it is fascinating but boring, true but false, and of course, here, but there. This is the story of how Slava the tree moved through the forest and into the city, through the past into the future, and through the then to the now.

THE END