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Written by John Macan
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Saturday, 21 October 2006 |
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Crouching
beside a pure bush pool,

Guided
through the water
By the song
of angels
They have
taken me
Sitting at
the roaring river’s edge,
Carried
weightless
Across
winter floodwater
They have
taken me
Entering the
cathedral mountains,
Sleeping
beneath the red rata
Drawn
through ages past
They have
taken me
In the wet
grass looking skyward
Before the
new moon,
Seeing
beyond this heaven
They have
taken me 
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