the world is a-changin', the stories always come true, listen to the wind, they carry them along, like the song of a drum, beating, beating like a heart beat, that beats inside a child or dog, sniffing at a flower, that's pointing to the sun, beaming down at me, looking at the ground, watching little plants, coming through cracks in the pavement, that's crumbling day by day, which starts again new, new and improved is fake, like those teeth polished to white privilege, privilege is going, down down the dumps, which get blocked by others, who don't like what privilege does either, the world is a-changin', the people who slumbered forever wake again, coming to the world of change, that's getting colder, no wait, hotter, no wait colder, no hot..., another thing to think for yourself about, the things that come around go around, people going round round in circles, the circles of life, intertwined with each other, spiralling up and down and crazy sideways, but not really crazy, just very very cool, cool is the winter, like summer is not, my favourite is early summer, with hot it's not and back, back to front, the leaf shines like silver, true colours, not what giant holes dig deep for, but four leaf clovers found in a field, growing through the cracks in the pavement now long gone, the forests that once were are now back, the giant trees speak to me, even though i'm not here, but i live in one, with relations, the human kind, humans?
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the stories tell of other worlds, come and coming...
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we are, and will be.
26 July, 2009
the world is a changin' (working title)
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