Here the romantic level, the leaves, play out. I'd like this deeper deep to play underneath in relation to the flatter figure, another leaf, or star or surface-- I'm fascinated as to how when ordering objects they start to pile up as metaphors until they all become the same and ONE thing.
A similar thing happens with the Sun, the Heros Head, the halo, the Sunflower, in Whitman he sees the spokes of the Sun turn around his head in the water beneath him in Crossing Brooklyn Ferry.
"I too saw the reflection of the summer sky in the water,
Had my eyes dazzled by the shimmering track of beams,
Look’d at the fine centrifugal spokes of light around the shape of my head in the sun-lit water,"
