He continued the work of tradition in order to create the human tree.
And the bodies of the trees attained a soul
Each one had its history.
And together they were telling the facts of the past.
Those which everyone else had forgotten.
And as they all stood nailed to the ground, they were showing the sky.
And they didn’t obstruct the gaze of their fellow humans.
They had the greatness of giving which gives without expecting.
Because the objective was not to take but to leave behind.
These were their heritage.
And the notion of continuation.
We walked in between them and felt the spirit’s breath.
The trees were large and had colors like his people.
Once he examined each of them he came out of their space.
He wanted to see how they looked within Time.
When an external gaze would see their internal world.
They had the verticality of beauty.
Without tricks.
Because they were strategems.
Each trunck was a book.
Just like the wisemen who when they die, a library closes.
It was the first time that he admired them together.
The bodies of the trees was not just a work of sculpture.
It was the diachronic presence of a peoples.
It was mnemosyne, the humane within nature.
It was the other piece of Humanity.
And this was located in the new world.
In the other.
There where the sun was bicolored, due to justice.
Then a new script was born.
A history that had been forgotten by everyone.
Except by the Just of Humanity.