the way

Come with me, I said,
because you did not know the way.
                     I know a transcendental
                                                        land.  Listen,
                                                                   I said, because life is
                                                                      short and time is sweet
but you would not take my hand
and
it hurt me to watch you wither so.
                                              So, I relented,
turned the way I knew,
how I was shown.
Mea Culpa. No, Mea Culpa.,
                  No, it does not matter
                                             and
it never did.  Take my hand, you said, come with me,
I know the way. But instead, I
         went the
          way I knew, the way of law and penitence.
  And in valley, low and barren, like a relict weeps with
           tears, profuse, I shed
story after story,
and in my mind,
began to write the
  epic
 where we,
the noble fated pair had lost our
way,
spilling words to soil till at last there
         grew renewal
                           and I heard a voice say, come with me.

The story's long and over now and
                                           who said what and
                                            when?
It does not matter.
 The way is calling.