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