WEBVTT

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I want to end with a few more
recent poems, one of them

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I read in a class, so those
who were in that class

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will have to just
sit through it again.

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And I tend to go back to it
maybe more often than I should

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because it is a
poem I think I was

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wanting to write for so long.

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And it refers, of course,
to the whole fairy

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story that we carry around
with us if we're lucky,

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called "One Story".

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"Always somewhere in the story
which up until now we thought

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was ours.

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Whoever it was that
we were being then

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had to wonder out into the
green towering forest reaching

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to the end of the
world and beyond,

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older than anything whoever
we were being could remember,

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and find there that it was
no different from the story

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anywhere in the
forest and never be

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able to tell as
long as the story

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was there, whether the fiery
voices now far ahead now

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underfoot, the eyes staring
from their instant that

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held the story as one breath.

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The shadows offering
their spread flowers

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and the chill that
leapt from its own turn

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through the hair of the nape
like a light through a forest

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knew the untold story all along.

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And we're waiting
at the right place

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as the moment
arrived for whoever

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it was to be led at last
by the wilds of ignorance

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through the forest and
come before them face

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to face for the first time,
recognizing them with no names,

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and again, surviving, seizing
something alive to take

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home out of the story.

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But what came out of the forest
was all part of the story.

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Whatever died on the way
or was named but no longer

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recognizable, even what vanished
out of the story finally,

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day after day, was
becoming the story.

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So that when there is no more
story, that will be our story.

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When there is no forest,
that will be our forest."

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