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Caution to Readers MAG
Literature was not born
For pickaxes and spades
For the clinical brush
Of the presumptuous archaeologist.
Dig in with gulpfuls of pure living earth.
Feel it envelop you
And its secrets will be
Deeply felt, by heart and hand,
Bone and blood –
The answers are within the
Rise and fall of your breath.
Leave the brush to the scientist,
Leave the spade to the gardener.
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