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| The Sky's Window | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
DarkYou are the dark of the world When all is brightness and dazzle You are a deepening mystery When life is a surfeit of simple solutions You are the nagging doubt and secret sceptic When everyone believes so much You are jangling discord, right out of tune When all the sounds are harmony You are the abstract art of paint and poem When our propaganda makes everything clear You are the parched throat, the desert defeat When there's water, water everywhere You are the silent absence, gone-missing god When the cacophony of belief becomes deafening You are uncharted journey, road less travelled When we're all mapped-out. Been there, done that You are stranger in the night, throwing us to the ground When all we want to do is get away You are the cloud of unknowing When we know–it-alls, know it all You are never ready and take for ever When we want it now and cannot wait You are the dark of the world When all is brightness and dazzle Cough what are you like? like a man who coughs while hiding, said the mystic, (talking like one) like a burglar in the dark stepping on a loose floorboard the smell of frying bacon wafting from an unseen window a bird rustling her clothes in motionless branches the opening bars of a song you know ... before you can name it a sneeze so shocking it clears the head the fleeting embarrassed eye-contact ... opening the soul a rumour so strange, that maybe it's true what are you like? the momentary intuition the blink of the other the brilliant thought too fine for words slips through braincells only its recall can be recalled what are you like? cough cough Pieces by Martin Wroe, taken from The Sky's Window |
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