Scholars sometimes speculate
Our myths come from our dreams
Our deepest need to narrate
Amidst all the *** and primal screams

Why this quest for story?
Why this drive for form?
Why gather ‘round the archaic Fire
And tell tales while keeping warm?

Could it be this quest for story
Is itself a kind of guess?
Might we ourselves be characters
In a storyteller’s Yes?

That She says to us in a mythic way
As She holds us to her breast,
“With you I start my story.
Now you go tell the rest.”

I must admit I’d like to live
Within a dream divine
If you share with me your heart’s fairy tale
I promise I’ll share mine.