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A Poem by Ookpik
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TJ6Mzvh3XCc

"
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It's time for me to dream again;
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I feel that all might be for nothing if I lose the means to dream.
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.
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If I had my way -
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If I had my way you'd learn me slowly -
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Like a new language in a lost book -
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You would discern my intentions
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From a momentary synapse,
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A look in my eye
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Or a sudden change in my voice.
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If I had my way you'd be patient with me -
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You'd come to discover what it is I'm trying to build;
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You'd grow to understand why
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And how important it is to me that I do.
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If I had my way you'd learn where it is I come from - 
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Not from my lips, but from those who've known me,
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From those I've loved and from those that I love still.
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If I had my way, 
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You'd never know any of the terrible things -
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Because you wouldn't have to,
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Because they wouldn't matter anymore.
.
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If I had my way,
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You'd never ask about them -
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Even though I know that you inevitably will.
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If I had my way they would make no difference to you
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And prove themselves irrelevant in their affect on me.
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If I had my way,
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If I was given tripartite wishes from some long forgotten lamp -
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If it was a matter of self, of just the sole desire in my heart -
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I would ask the chance for you to know me,
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For you to learn who I am
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And who I so desperately,
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Some day,
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Want to be.
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But I also know,
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Were I to have my way
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And were a lamp like that to really exist,
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That there would be a part of me that would want to hand it to you
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And ask what you'd wish for instead.
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© 2020 Ookpik


Author's Note

Ookpik
spiegel im spiegel: mirror in the mirror

"Tintinnabulation is an area I sometimes wander into when I am searching for answers – in my life, my music, my work. In my dark hours, I have the certain feeling that everything outside this one thing has no meaning. The complex and many-faceted only confuses me, and I must search for unity. What is it, this one thing, and how do I find my way to it? Traces of this perfect thing appear in many guises – and everything that is unimportant falls away. Tintinnabulation is like this. . . . The three notes of a triad are like bells. And that is why I call it tintinnabulation."

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Added on April 9, 2020
Last Updated on April 14, 2020

Author

Ookpik
Ookpik

Vancouver Island, British Columbia , Canada



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A Poem by Ookpik


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A Poem by Ookpik


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A Poem by Ookpik