I am the nor'west air nosing through the pines
I am the water-rush and the rust on the railway lines
I am the mileage recorded on the yellow signs
I am dust, I am distance, I am lupins back of the beach
I am the sum the sole-charge teachers teach
I am the cows called to milking and the magpies screech.
I am 9'o'clock when the office is clean
I am the slap of the belting and the smell of the machine.
I am the place in the park where lovers are seen.
I am the recurrent music children hear
I am the level noises of a remembering ear
I am the sawmill and the passionate second gear.
I, GMod, Am all of these. yet they exist
Among my mountainous fabrics like a mist
So do they the measurable world resist.
I, GMod, call down, condense, confer,
On the willing memory these shapes were;
I, more than your conscious carrier,
Am island, am sea, am father, farm and friend.
Although I am here all coming things attend;
I am, you have heard it, the Beginning and the End.