From caves
we come,
with sweet-smelling vials
fermented from afar.

The witch-doctor wakes
the comatose child
and grants the success
was his alone.

While the vials spill
and stars are handed out meanings
with only an atom of self-worth.

Come to me
from your caves.
Flock across the sky
cawing in riotous turmoil -

And I will know
That you knew
So little at first
and so little at last.