I, the child with opened face
can never belong to a single place;
to a single tongue can never be wed for I am the child too far ahead:
too far ahead to find again sweetness enough in one refrain;
too far ahead to turn me back
into acceptancy of lack.
If I am fed
- then the whole earth's bread must be my bread.
My words must pass as birds on air out from and into everywhere.
Not less than all may I henceforth call my own, my dear.
For I have come a way too long,
too long a way through broken things and coming,
have too forward grown
ever to loose my hold upon that Far Countree I have seen
or sing a lesser song than what belongs to it.
-Doris Peel