|john f. marok. treeline. 30"x30" oil/canvas|
wind blew outta town, head down, tail between legs, never seen or heard from again. tumbleweed was given a ticker-tape parade, a street named after him, larger than life bronze statue on the steps to the mount of wildberries. tumbleweed became king. he ruled with a merciful heart, full of justice, tenderness, humanity. one evening later in his life, on the terrace of his castle wall while he was watching the colors change of the setting sun, he saw in a distant tree a silhouette of a raven preening her feathers, feeding her young, one eye outward looking for coyotes. tumbleweed was transfixed on the bird's ritual, felt himself become lighter than air, forgot his name, his age. felt himself change from brittle tree branches, from dry, rough, splinteriness into a green, pliable, fibered curvilinear spherical ball of gloriful praise, of exalted adoration.