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Journeyman Tillerman Do not drift from the port Do not slip into that last flow I am not ready yet to throw to you I have cards to sort and boxes to pack Promises to keep, amnesty to seek
Not ready journeyman Tillerman Not ready to hand over to you Not ready to drift under the tall bridge Not ready to out pace the mid stream
So tell me journeyman Tillerman When our being has dissolved and gone When we pass from the lake to the sea What will we find and what will we see Will that surreal light release a final reveal Will we know at last what is and what is not ?
With a soft hand he let go of the tiller He let the currents determine our course In the quiet becalm of waves lapping In the space between one hand clapping His answer unclasped expectation
“Where we go there is nothing There is nowhere there to go” |
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Copyright Graeme Murphy 2000-2021 |
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Paynesville 2013 |