You must release the nightmare of your historical awareness. The morning glories smile softly. I sit under the juniper tree, a dark figure, a dark-figured man. A being approaches, a light being, descending towards me, darkened man, under the green tree. Light all round.
Angel descends, lights the center of the painting.
A ll else is dark, shadows. The angel hovers over the dark man. A voice from the lig ht speaks. Eat the green leaves. Eat my word.