“The Story We Know” (Martha Collins)

The way to begin is always the same. Hello,
Hello. Your hand, your name. So glad, just fine,
and Good bye at the end. That’s every story we know,

and why pretend? But lunch tomorrow? No?
Yes? An omelette, salad, chilled white wine?
The way to begin is simple, sane, Hello,

and then it’s Sunday, coffee, the Times, a slow
day by the fire, dinner at eight or nine
and Good bye. In the end, this is a story we know

so well we don’t turn the page, or look below
the picture, or follow the words to the next line:
The way to begin is always the same Hello.

But one night, through the latticed window, snow
begins to whiten the air, and the tall white pine.
Good bye is the end of every story we know

that night, and when we dose the curtains, oh,
we hold each other against that cold white sign
of the way we all begin and end. Hello,
Good bye is the only story. We know, we know.

Hello, it’s wonderful to meet you. But goodbye, big day at work tomorrow, I really should be going. Sometimes it’s forced. Hello, I’m trying to find someone, a certain someone. Have you seen her? I believe she was wearing brown shoes with a crystal snowflake. Goodbye, I can’t believe he died this young, so shocking. I just had a beer with him three weeks ago. Hadn’t heard from him since.

Most of the time, this is the story we know. A story of transience, a story of prophylactic hesitation, a story which scoffs vulnerability. But this story is sane; it protects us. Yet, once the end arrives, where are we?

One day, perhaps a night, we will become confronted by our goodbye, our ultimate goodbye. Hello, it’s lovely to be here. Goodbye, my time looks like it might be up. What have we gained? What have we given? What difference have we made? What have we touched beyond ourself?

Tonight, we block out all the distractions, all the surface dives. We know we will have to leave in the morning. Suddenly, all the ritual, all the tap dancing, all the game playing, it all fades together, converging on oblivion. Nothing we have guarded can be taken with us.

Tonight, we embrace each other, holding each other tight. We turn toward each other, speaking of our humanity, our flaws, our fears. Tonight, as we gaze toward each other, we find out more about what we were sent here to do. We find out more about meaning itself. This is our reality.

Hello goodbye. This we know. But about the space in the middle of the two? Grab my hand and we’ll find out.