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Post by Ivan Carswell on Jan 27, 2008 20:10:40 GMT -5
There is clarity of thought at 3am, clarity of thought that won’t exist when day begins – an ease of finding rhythms in the words that tease a tender flow of more, words that grow from pensive thoughts which opened this prosaic door, this charismatic magic music score of rhythmic song persisting, concentric echoes all insisting you depart along this path before the dawn begins again the process of awakening.
I’ve travelled down this path before in times when rhyme was subtle glue that kept you true to hints of visionary grace, lead you to a place beyond the reach of mind, rested you and left a peace as subtle as a gentle hint of death. And there I died. Today I’ll run the race with vigour born of desperate need to beat the glow of light that springs – has sprung! Dear heart, too late. © I.D. Carswell 2006
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