WEBVTT

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I think I'll make this the
last poem titled, "Invocation".

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Dirt and stone, if I may know
you as you know yourselves,

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if you do have a
sense of yourselves,

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I walk upon and study you as
my next brothers and sisters.

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In this only way I know
how to think about you.

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I'd pick you up in my
hands and run you slowly

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through my fingers.

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I feel so close to you, if
only not to fear, but to know

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and make you my kin.

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Even if I must do it alone.

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I am resigned, if I
must say it that way.

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Try as I might, I cannot
think myself exactly that.

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I see us each in
separate worlds,

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and because I must join yours
and gradually become as you,

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I want to know what
home will be like there.

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If I could say that from you,
can be made in men and women,

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how happy and relieved I'd be
to know we have a, sort of,

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exchange program between us.

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In which we spring
up out of the dust

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and are greeted with
open arms to tell,

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that all is well back
there growing its fruits.

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And then to embrace all of
us together and celebrate

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with drink and dancing.

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And to see one into the soil
with solemn benedictions

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on a current of joy.

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Waving him farewell as
he disintegrates to dust.

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I speak to you in
pity for myself.

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Speak to me and return the
love I must have for you.

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Since I must be
buried one day in you

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and would go towards
love again as am I,

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let us be reconciled
to one another.

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Dirt and stone into which my
flesh will turn, this much

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we have in common.

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As I cannot speak to my bones,
nor my blood, nor my own flesh.

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Why then must I speak?

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What says I must speak
if I am not answered?

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What then that I should speak or
am I speaking at all if my own

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flesh and bones
cannot answer me.

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As if already they were
partners of the stones and dirt.

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Thank you.

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[APPLAUSE]

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