"

The clouds preceded us.


There was a muddy center before we breathed.
There was a myth before the myth began,
Venerable and articulate and complete.


From this poem springs: that we live in a place
That is not our own and, much more, not ourselves
And hard it is in spite of blazoned days.


We are the mimics. Clouds are pedagogues.

"
– Wallace Stevens, from “It Must Be Abstract” in Notes Toward a Supreme Fiction