  BECOMING THE MOUNTAIN  _ - for Conor_  They stood on a road in December.  Wind made snow ghosts among the trees.  The child asked, "Where does the wind come from?"  It comes from the mouth of nowhere,  between day and dark  so the trees can talk together.  "But it's winter now  and the trees are sleeping."  Yes, so listen carefully  to their dreams.  "And suppose I am the wind?"  Then you are also the dreams.  