“Have you ever been a river?” The madman asked me.

“No… I am a man.” I said.

The madman frowned, contemplatively. “What is a man?” He asked.

“You, and I are men.” I told him.

A look of realization spread accross his face, “Ah! Then men are stones!” He declared as though discovering some great epiphany.

“Why do you say we are stones?” I asked him.

He looked at me as though I was a great fool; he punched my chest and declared: “You are hard, and dense inside.”

“Does a stone have thoughts?” I asked him, “as you have thoughts?”

The madman looked consternated for a momment, and then replied in bewilderment “I don’t know… I shall ask one.” Then turning to face me squarely he asked, “Did you know I can fly?”

“No,” I said, “you cannot fly, you are a man.”

“But,” said he, “when I close my eyes…” he pinched his eyes such in demonstration. “I feel… that I am soaring over the plains… like a bird, only faster. And I see the people below me… they wonder where I’m going.”

“And, where ARE you going?” I asked him.

His eyes shot open and a smile spread accross his face, “To the north pole!” He declared.

“What’s in the north pole?” I asked.

His face went blank and his eyes seemed to search the sky for answers in front of him. Finally he said: “Snow.”

“But you are still here.” I told him.

“What?” he asked, looking at me again.

“You said you could fly,” I reminded him. “And you closed your eyes to fly, but you are still here.”

The man looked puzzled. “Where?” He asked. “Is this a real place?”


“Are you an angel, too?” He asked.

“No, I am a man, and so are you.”

Suddenly he was distracted, “Can you hear the sunlight?” He asked me, cocking his head to one side.

“No, a person cannot hear sunlight.”

“It tells me secrets.” He said.

“What kind of secrets?” I asked him.

“It says you’re a tree.”

“I’m not a tree, I’m a man.”

Again the madman looked confused, “Are men trees?”


“But the sunlight tells me you are a tree.” He said.

“You can’t hear the sunlight.”

“YOU cannot hear the sunlight.” He said, “and you cannot fly to the snow in the north. But that’s because your heart is a stone, and you are but a little tree. A man was the river of nations, and I’ve seen the snow in the north – the hardened crystal waters of the earth. You tell me of man’s limitations, but how can you know what a you are if you don’t hear the light of the sun?”

Suddenly he was gone… I suppose he closed his eyes and flew away. Then the madman stood alone, wondering what a man really is.

Follow the path, the Road to Zion.