To see the world differently
Isn’t like a photograph
Everything changes
And nothing
Chop wood
Before and after
Our muscles change
The surety in our bodies
Mildness of speech
And that hidden sense
That drinks in data
And feels the brush of water in our mind.

Like a swan and its sickly nest
Why does it go there?
Seek shelter and associate
That is what I am
The sickness
The oil slick
That stains with thick emotions
Iron on the inside.

Layer upon layer
Smile upon smile
Doubt that it’s seen
And it won’t carry me.

As it grows and my concerns wane
Passion groans and hope fades
I’ll build me for me
Win what’s wanted for myself and my place
And more than a shade for you
A year or more
Months or days
To my shock and surprise
Inconvenient and welcome
Those swum dreamsongs
Feelings and flavour of your face
Perfumes and voice
Like a sinking sand
The roars of a crowd
I’m swum under before seeing the wave.

Whether I have your thoughts or heart
Or whatever at all
My words and work and walks go on
For you and others to read and take
Settling into new sights of time
And starting life truly seen
Dashed amongst the sand
Amidst bitter seas
White and black thoughts in my heart
Like my words will sweep me
As sure as finding shore.

By J.W.H. Hobbs.

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