“How the bird cry seizes us …
The creation once, of any cry.
But even the children, playing in the open air,
Cry out, beyond all true cries.

Chance cries out. Into the spaces between
All of these vastnesses of a world, (where the broken
Bird cry insinuates itself, like men in dreams -)
They drive and pound in their screeching, like wedges.

So where on earth are we then? We break freer and freer,
Hunting, like kites which have snapped loose
Half way up, with laughing borders,

Shredded by the wind. – Array all those who cry out,
Oh god who sings! that they may awaken with a roar,
Bearing upon them as a current the head and the lyre.”