Parable Of The Dove

A dove lived in a village. When it opened its mouth sweetness came out, sound like a silver light around the cherry bough. But the dove wasn't satisfied. It saw the villagers gathered to listen under the blossoming tree. It didn't think: I am higher that they are. It wanted to wealk among them, to experience the violence of human feeling, in part for its song's sake. So it became human. It found passion, it found violence, first conflated, then as separate emotions and these were not contained by music. Thus its song changed, the sweet notes of its longing to become human soured and flattened. Then the world drew back; the mutant fell from love as from the cherry branch, it fell stained with the bloody fruit of the tree. So it is true after all, not merely a rule of art: change your form and you change your nature. And time does this to us.