Mind Dances

mind dance


I am my own window attempting memory
I am my own messiah constructing another grass miracle
I am my own stained glass rumour with three sunsets
I am my own drum in a room of small silences
I am my own game with blood and bones and stones
I am my own farmer in a field of bread and apples
I am my own tree noisy with sleeping bird dreams
I am my own rain watched by my ancestors
I am my own collector of nests and deserted eggs
I am my own tribe recording narratives of betrayal
I am my own wizard of alphabets written for the blind
I am my own rain man waiting for jazz in late July
I am here where we meet and there where we depart
I am here as the first chapter and the last chapter fight
I am here as mother drowns five puppies in a bucket
I am here when the car explodes and the clowns weep
I am here when the glass virgin is lifted from the cross
I am here when my diary is handed round the dormitory
I am here when my dead parents arrive at the front door
I am here when they ride their bikes into the  sky.

David Grubb
Illustration Nick Victor

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