All items listed above belong in the world
In which all things are continuous,
And are parts of the original dream which
I am now trying to discover the logic of. This
Is the process whereby pain of the past in its pastness
May be converted into the future tense
Of joy.
Tell Me a Story[A]
Long ago, in Kentucky, I, a boy, stood
By a dirt road, in first dark, and heard
The great geese hoot northward.I could not see them, there being no moon
And the stars sparse. I heard them.I did not know what was happening in my heart.
It was the season before the elderberry blooms,
Therefore they were going north.The sound was passing northward.
[B]
Tell me a story.
In this century, and moment, of mania,
Tell me a story.Make it a story of great distances, and starlight.
The name of the story will be Time,
But you must not pronounce its name.Tell me a story of deep delight.