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14. Inua Yua 

In this silence.

The great stillness.

Images emerge from the deep source:
 pine tree...
 birds.

All the earth, the air:
 rootedness and
 flight.

I sing myself to sleep
night after night
my voice becomes choral,
polyphonous:

hope, passion,
blood
chatter
insensate drumming
stream to the sea
history, people,
the great
the poor
dying
the crackle of paper
names
marching to money
soldiers
flight of geese
a gesture of human warmth

birth
baby's cry
still the moon's mystery

a tree
shaking its needles
receiving birds

past and present

dancing the repetitions
rhythms
 of life
  death

Oh, yes, I want immortality
the tree in me says

balm of completeness
a sparrow alights on the tip of a branch
together they sway
branch and bird
at the exact moment
a wave of light
moves from behind
the shadow
of a
cloud.

In this silence

the language
of dream

of...

forever...

for now...

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