Friend,
            more than friend,
                                        less than friend,
in dream I came to the home of your family
to deliver a message.
Messenger of the gods, I knew
nothing of what I was to tell. Only those
who received it would comprehend
what it was.
                    You had a sister,
who resembled you--
                                tall, curly-haired, with an aquiline, questing nose,
a sharp-edged presence, restless, charged
with some half-concealed wistful desire--
but resembled me too,
as if she and I were sisters: I knew this
though I know little of my own
presence, what it is.
                            She was kind to me,
welcomed me warmly into the house
which was stirring with eager people, cousins,
                                                                  grandparents,
aunts and uncles, all talking quickly,
                                                    moving through the rooms.
Everywhere green plants hung from baskets,
swaying in fish-swift ripples of light
as the family passed to and fro
smiling, vehement, pursuing
shining ribbons of concept that crisscrossed in mid-air
like strong fibers of gossamer.
I could not see you
though you were surely there
somewhere in that place where it was clear you belonged;
but your sister drew me kindly into the midst
and brought me the cup that is brought
to messengers from distant places, before they must
                                                                            speak.