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  • You told that story well
    the romantic one
    the one in the clouds
    and from the yearning heart
    Now it's time to write the one that's always lain
    in the spaces between that
    jingle of a song
    Look out the window,
    not at 'the wind tossed sea'
    but deeper and closer
    See the roiling and the interlace of waves
    cresting like the surface of the sun
    the sea is boiling wet
    moulding water
    into clouds
    The rain factory
    the womb
    each moment opens up
    a ripple of thought
    and as the sunlight
    in 'golden rays'
    breaks through
    the northborne southbound clouds
    the harbour urges those droplets on the surface of each crest "Up!"
    "A passing gull will take you there," mama washpers over her babies.
    "Go now and catch the wave."

    New eyes, 'cleansed by hot tears'
    and blind heaves of breath
    I sit now risen up on this hill
    and hear the world moan
    the inarticulable gestures of cloud
    and earth and sea
    reaching towards my fingers
    saying
    "Write us"
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