I Shall Go to You

"Would that it were mine to fill people's mornings with good, so that my voice rose upon them from here only in the seasons of roses and good things."
"Tammuz"

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— I shall go to you, out there where you have loved to sleep — you went early to it, for fear the storm should pass you by, the great storm; and you loved storms.

— I shall go to you, out there where you sought seclusion, and I shall trouble it for you, O Tammuz, as you troubled for me a hope I had long nursed: that I should see you recover and return to your corner, wishing the people good morning and good things.

— Yes, I shall go to you, now that I have made certain you will not come back to us; I shall wish you good morning in my turn, having felt that you have brought your morning greetings to the people to an end.

I shall go to you myself and rub my pen in the holy dust of your hermitage — perhaps my pen, O Tammuz, may draw from the soil of Fiaa one of the secrets of the storm.

Out there... to the far place — and already I seem to hear, in the neighing of the wind, your rebellious voice giving its greeting of good; I shall bring the people glad tidings then, that seasons of good things and roses will rise upon them. Into history's keeping, then, O Tammuz.

And history is enamored of storms — and you loved them.

So live on, with history, in a world that knows no passing away, and is all mornings.

The Law Institute
Joseph Khoury — one of his readers