Homeless in Paris Homeless in Paris | Page 285

B"H As I approach my gate one fine spring day, the branches of a nearby apricot tree started rustling and the leaves thereupo n bustling about in every direction at once, precariously hanging unto the twigs upon whom their life depended. I mean it was like the tree was trying to get my atte ntion and my response was to throw a glance within an intrinsic recognition of conversing b y facial expression, you know, smiling in consternation. In order to comprehend this better let me describe the events as sequential occurrences that culminated in my standing so me ten yards distance; engaged at the moment I reached towards the gate and stepped forth to enter my garden. With an artistic squint and scientific query, I look carefully to absorb the sensations o f a face intensely concerned to do similarl y regarding me. There will be those whose reaction would be to disclaim the image o f a man in the tree no less that man in the moon but upon careful inspection all can see the tree is wide at the crown and draws to a midpoint at the tip of its chin where t he husky branches spread out fro m its shoulders. When I squint in order to encroach upon my perception in the realm of my senses, the image of spaces where light intertwines with shadows can be easily perceived as the eyebrows, structure of the nose, lips, ears, and straggly lines giving the impressio n of a beard. The overall impression can be imagined similar to a visual concept of the Omnipotent. It is co mmon for artistic individuals to perceive things that are not, but seeing Hashe m's prescience in a tree, that was particular to me. The sorry aspect of this reality is that the tree was cut down by the city gardeners. Warmth and a feeling of being appreciated, a m I so desperate to establish co mmunion with a tree, but you take what you ca n get and understa nd why people could worship trees and as suc h tread carefully. The reader should be informed that I have undertaken a journey more frightening than the most appallin g horror story, confronting the offensiveness and perversities with which I've been faced, endured, and perpetuated. The libertaria n sexuality and declining birth rate of the Occident has created a n opportunity for those whom reject it to conquer the world. The song of creation at the fall of nighttime differs from the chirping heard during the sunrise when the mother birds get their children out to school, and the bird community starts upon their daily labors with the early light of dawn. When the darkness envelops urban residential environments, many humanly 285