Parable 1

Three monkeys sat in an ancient tree and spoke of things they had seen.

The first looked out from the split crook of a high branch. Casting its unbroken gaze into the far reaches of the jungle, it began: "Many pass through here, and just as many go on. Do you suppose we ought also to leave?"

The second shifted slightly from where it long had leaned against the lichened trunk. Patterns in its fur similar to the microbial backdrop created an illusion of the tree itself ruffling its bark. "Do you not suppose this tree is a place in between other places? Are we, its eyes, its ears, its tongues and teeth, not tasked as its sentinels, its keepers?"

For a moment, there was no sound but the steady creak of a thousand-year-old stem swaying in the breeze. Then, in a burst of leaves that sent feathers cawing in all directions, the third monkey leapt from its perch overlooking the somber conversation and swung its way down into the middle. "I suppose I am an ape in between other apes! And I suppose we ought to go on and get something to eat."