5.7.06 Poem by dan hightower

To where when we go to we conceive we have gone
To when who is it that to where knows an end
To what where the end grows light like a who
To you I give this and from you I take the why…

If asked why a when would become a how I’d say
Tis the same to ask the wind why a way becomes a then
For the who who knows the why is a when to your what
And from the distance I can hear the form of where…

Still dancing is the ghost of yesterday’s how
Still prancing in the prairie of my when
Standing still in pink delight of a newly found why
I scream with all my how’s upward to a where-filled sky…

If still the prancing dance does not offer a where where
Then the end is who the wind hears distant from the why
And the you is the me I knew before I knew you
Still dancing I do when in the distance I hear the form of where…