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At night, you can sometimes

hear the universe stretch

its hands towards you. Listen carefully, you can hear

undecided Earth, and Fate shifting on her feet

averting her face.

It is the walking-in of a plan as you lay half awake,

an invisible wave coming towards you

invisibly, surely.

Or it’s a low, almost unheard nodding of turtles as Earth

takes a deep breath and agrees.

Or, it’s that glistening bead on the ground you see only at a certain

angle of the light. You know when you will

get closer, it will be gone.

It’s like a movie you sense, not see –

a song still in the womb – its melody unseen,

a star that hid behind the bookshelf long ago,

and whose light is only now reaching you

through the chinks in the line of Non-fiction and Ethnography.

You are blind, but

for one inviolate unjust instant you bend Time,

and

hear Future.

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