CHILDREN, FOLLOW THE DWARFS
Children, follow the dwarfs and the giants and the wolves,
into the Wood of Unknowing, into the leaves
where the terrible granny perches and sings to herself
past the tumultuous seasons high on her shelf.
Do not go with the Man with the Smiling Face,
nor yet with the Lady with the Flowery Dress.
Avoid the Crystal, run where the waters go
and follow them past the Icebergs and the Snow.
Avoid the Man with the Book, the Speech Machine,
and the Rinsoed Boy who is forever clean.
Keep clear of the Scholar and the domestic Dog
and, rather than Sunny Smoothness, choose the Fog.
Follow your love, the butterfly, where it spins
over the wall, the hedge, the road, the fence,
and love the Disordered Man who sings like a river
whose form is Love, whose country is Forever.
Iain Crichton Smith