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Occasional Impressions Poetry Collections Secret joys and public spectacles Knowing I am stone I do not know this For I have no brain, no mind, no consciousness You use your imagination and your knowledge in an act of empathy You imagine yourself as me who cannot imagine for myself For I have no brain, no mind, no consciousness I am bird I do not know this For I have no language to name types and categories I soar, I fly, I feed, I die but have no words to speak of it Am I conscious of my soaring, my flying, my feeding, my dying? I do not know and have no words with which to tell But you can imagine yourself as me soaring, flying, feeding, dying No, not dying Of death you have experience, but not of dying And I have no words to tell of what I feel and know I am Ian I do know this for people tell me so ‘Ian this...’, ‘Ian that...’, they say so yes, I must be Ian I do have words in which to think and speak and listen I can formulate, I can communicate I can imagine, I can create I can describe stone, I can categorise bird I can create a building, form a statue make a likeness of a bird, imagined soaring, flying, feeding,dying But I cannot imagine the dying for of death I have experience but not of dying I am God I am what I am You cannot know what I am like I have no brain Do I have consciousness? Do I have mind? You cannot know what it is like to be me unless I let you know and mostly I keep you guessing Ian I Gracey
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