RoRa. The Tree

This page was inspired by RoRa (Rolandas Rastauskas, the great Lithuanian modern essayist).

The question was:
CH> Which has been earlier: the egg or the hen?

Worldwide drone of the wood...
It goes out from the single tree...
The margin darker than a word...

The shanty of the poet...
Webs from the dust and no spiders...
Let left me to be with my Webs...

The tree as a knowledge of movement.
The bird fell unweil when no tree.
What the tree fell when no bird?

WHICH HAS BEEN EARLIER: The tree or the bird?

Rytis Janulis. Wilderness

"... do thou see a tree?"
"No", - was my answer, indeed far off was void - any grass, any bush and all the more any tree. Only sand and wind.
"And do you see?" - I asked.
"Of course", - was an answer, - "there beyong line".

I painly wanted to see, but my drifted eyes was helpless. Then he took with my hand.

We went and went and went... while a small spot appeared far away.
"Do thou see, now?" - he asked again.
I saw the point only, but it wasn't a tree, wasn't it?...

. . .

Later I already separated the small lighter stains, spots, pathes. They started to move. In the diverse order, straggly, in the chaotic way. Maybe, this chaos had some order. Maybe, but what was above all - I was attracted by this movement.

... the low whisper to my back of head. I lent an attentive ear and comprehended:
"Do thou see, now?!"
"What?" - I asked.
"The tree?"

No! I saw the movement. One of the white and black spots. I saw the play of light and dark, almost wonderful, greatest I ever had seen before.

But the tree, the tree was absent, anyway.

Again RoRa with the tiny fragment 'Postcard from Atlantida'

As I glance at the minarets of neo-Lithuanians I think at first time about the wives of sheikhes of the oil and "pourring out" - the drink prepared by use the pure (sometimes even wood) alcohol, in Lithuanian named, "pilstukas", as the one to be pourred out.

What those wives are doing, - leaved alone in the castles? Embroiding in the silk or making the coarse homespuns (in Lithuanian, "s'imtasiu'les")? And how many of ones exist? Single, two ar three...

Three pathes by RoRa

Three pathes through the map of the fancy - gnawed by daily routine. Towards the Zone, towards the Death and towards of the remote Sweetheart. Often, a motion by all these pathes at same time.

. . .

An amity is a constant writing of a letter by all available ways. Not necessary by using a ink or pencil. Often and often by an ability to hear the calls of related heart. From somewhere - from the worlds's end. From the next world.

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