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I REALLY DON'T WANT TO KNOW

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<span style="font-size: 8pt; font-family: Times New Roman">
 
Don't tell me I'm late
 
to discover
 
The first rainbow's birth,
 
or the laughter of children
 
catching hailstones
 
while seeing them
 
      magically disappear.
 
Nothing is ever late
 
to the beginner...
 
Don't tell me there are
 
no midgets dancing on the moon,
 
           answering my soliloquies
 
     while playing
 
hide and seek behind
 
           passing clouds.
 
Don't tell me I'm dreaming,
 
as grandmother's ghost
 
in skeletal smiles
 
frightens me. Would I
 
see her
 
peering from the closet
 
had I stayed
 
hidden in my bedcovers?
 
Nothing is unreal
 
to the believer...
 
Don't tell me about 
 
stars I haven't counted,
 
as if I knew not how many greet me,
 
or play with the friendly moth
 
whose lamp has retired,
 
or guide the rippling brook 
 
to quench thirsty seas
 
that get angry at Heaven's tears
 
until one morning she gives birth
 
to the rainbow.
 
 
 
Don't tell me...
 
Nothing is as it seems
 
even if stars could be counted.
 
</span>
 

Manuel L. Ponte - St. Louis, Missouri, July 11, 1982
 
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