The monkey cannot weave its tail
Back through each familiar tree,
Each leap and fall, each land and fail,
Back to the ground to see
Which rotted branch in stride
Giving way when grasped
Conspired thus to guide
Where it would not have cast.
Man alone can clasp his tale
And trace collisions in his course
To speak to Time, to take her veil,
To taste the very breath of source
Leading him from there to here
By his zeal and hesitation,
By his fancy and his fear
Transforming his path and destination.