Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Speak, Tree

Open to its inner map of color and texture, this dying tree on my street longs to tell its story. There, to the right, is its crackled, knowing eye. In the words of Shakespeare's Macbeth:

Stones have been known to move and trees to speak.

-- William Shakespeare, Macbeth, Act III, scene iv.

While searching for this quote, I got hooked on the vivid language and eagerly traveled on, arriving at the following familiar and beautiful passage several pages later:

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

William Shakespeare, Macbeth, Act V, scene v.

And now, I suppose, it's time to revisit Faulkner's book and meander through those pages.

The photograph was taken 4/11/10 on my road. Click on image to enlarge.


Pam said...

Two good reads. I went back to both a year or so ago...very great to return after a long time away, especially with The Sound and the Fury. There was lots I'd forgotten. I like your tree creature!

Christine said...

Hi, Pam. Such poetic language to be found there. Thank you!

Deborah Batterman said...

I love the way the collective conscious works its poetic magic, connecting words, images, and the people who relish them.

Christine said...

Hello, Deborah ... all true!