sorenbarrett

The shape of a tree

Does not the tree shed its leaves and the fox caught in a trap chew off its leg
So we put the individual behind the good of the whole
We shed our cells to renew our skin, cut off the bonds of old and sick 
Where ore of individuality becomes our values cast in the mold of humanity 
Viewing through gestalt spectacles the whole grows greater than the sum of the parts
Here the puzzle takes form
A carved statue out of stone where the pieces lost add beauty