The arrow stuck into the tree.
Looking up from the dark curves in the bark, it found infinite leaves stemming from extending branches. The arrow looked around and saw the forest, a labyrinth of complex green. On each leaf the arrow found a message. Each message a sign pointed in a direction, a voice, an opinion, a fact, a story, all flat and one sided. Some are read easily, some with difficulty, and some in language yet to be understood. Each of these leaves make sense in their transit to the ground, even upon arrival at the terminus atop the soil their message may still be tangible, but soon the rain and bugs will devour them and return the secrets to the earth.
With every leaf that rots is another that grows. Each are the details that make up the whole view of the forest, and there is no view of the forest that isn’t the whole forest. The whole. The details. The forest. The leaves. The arrow. Us. The space between. It’s all part of the same whole, which extends beyond the whole of itself, and so is nothing at all.
This whole picture of the forest, is silent. Beams of sun shine through the canopy. Insects glisten in the light. A bird darts through the trunks of great trees. Monsters sleep and crawl somewhere.
This is my new habitat. I will read the leaves and walk between the stalks. I wonder what will happen here. Let’s wait and see.