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There will be no one waiting for me

when I get off the train.

And yet, I wish for someone to discover me;

to reveal the deepest parts of me

like falling tides reveal the architecture

of the seafloor.

Emily told me

that the artist will know beauty;

the artist will know God,

but the artist will never be in love.

I will wander this realm of shadows and delights

tracing perennial paths of circling lights,

always grasping

for the right colours

or the right words,

hoping that when I find them

they will cure the painter’s loneliness.

In my travels,

I will bare witness to great beauty;

I will find everything

except that for which I search.

I will find the mountains I search under

and the oceans I search over;

I will fumble in their language, trying to understand

those silent stones and roaring waters,

and I will forge crudely from their bodies

works of art.

I will chase each wave and each setting sun

And I will chase the wind through the trees.

I will feel the stars rain down my spine

and the forest swell beneath my skin

in spring.

Each wave breaks at the height of its majesty

and the sea will never rest -


like the sea

we will never rest.


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