Bard

“Sing a song for me,” the boy demanded of Coyote.

“You will have to catch me first,” replied Coyote.

And the boy chased Coyote around and around, through furrows and sorrows and marrows. And when he thought he could run no longer the boy saw Coyote look back over his shoulder, and saw Coyote’s tail slow its recession. With one finger the boy touched Coyote, and Coyote sang a song for him.

“That’s a good song,” the boy said to Coyote.

“It is a song, like other songs,” replied Coyote. “But with that one ringing your ears your mind is sifted. Now hear this song. It is a special song.”

And the song chased the boy around and around, through furrows and sorrows and marrows. And when it sang that it was coming to an end it caught up the boy’s mind. With one note the song touched the boy, and the boy spoke a word for it.

“That’s a good word,” Coyote said to the boy.

“It’s a word, like other words,” replied the boy.

“No,” said Coyote, “it is a special word. It is a story word.”

“What does a story word say that other words do not?” asked the boy of Coyote.

“There are three: the argument word, the poem word, and the story word. You have said the story word. The story word says what is.”

“How have I said this story word when before I said only words like other words?” asked the boy of Coyote.

“The song,” replied Coyote. “When your mind is prepared through sifting, when it hears this song it surrenders the story word.”

“What is the name of this song?” asked the boy of Coyote.

“It is the World Song,” replied Coyote. “But now that you know you must say the story word and be forgotten.”

And the boy said his story word and was forgotten.

And Coyote laughed.

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