A Man and a Tree III

I walked toward the tree, and the dream sharpened.

Color deepened, sound thinned, time slowed into a careful unfolding. The field no longer felt vast; it felt precise. Each step became a choice rather than a motion. This was no longer wandering but an approach. In many traditions, to walk toward the tree is to walk toward the self—not the constructed self, but the rooted one. The cloak shifted on my shoulders. I felt lighter now, not because something was added, but because something unnecessary had been released.