This poem, for the moment, at any rate,
is called "Uncertain Oneiromancy".
Oneiromancy means divination by dreams.
"I spent the entire night leading a blind man
through an immense museum so that
by internal bridges or tunnels, somehow
he could avoid the streets, the most dangerous avenues,
all the swift chaotic traffic.
I persuaded him to allow my guidance
through to the other distant doors, though once inside,
labyrinthine corridors, steps, jutting chests, and chairs,
and stone arches bewildered him as I named them at each swerve
and were hard for me to maneuver him around and between.
As he could perceive nothing, I too
saw only the obstacles, the objects with sharp corners,
not one painting, not one curve, credenza, or limestone mortar.
We did at last emerge, however, into that part of the city
he had been headed for when I took over.
He raised his hat in farewell and went on uphill,
tapping his stick.
I stood looking after him, watching
as the street enfolded him, wondering if he would make it.
And after I woke, wondering still what in me he was
and who the I was that took that long shortcut with him
through room after room of beauty,
his blindness hid from me as if it had never been."
[CLAPPING]
So thank you.
[CLAPPING]