Do Not Ask....An Old Poem When Was A Wee Lad Poem by John Tansey

Do not ask
what is this thing
that is this tree;
from where it has come
what it is to be
when it has grown.

Do not ask
what is this thing
that is this bird;
having caught,
we no longer see
when once we have heard.

Do not be conscious
of a purpose
to reveal at you
what you should know
at this present time.

Do not commit
to reason
one mote, of things
you have caught, named
and filed
in the school taught, quarter
of your mind.

Do not start
there, or anywhere
away from the wordless art
of simply knowing,
that alone, should walk you home
in the night air
steeping you with being.

To ask me again
is to commit the crime
of attempting to know
what you should only feel.



3/8/88