‘No clock: only the Heart’s blood. Only the word.”
“I think poetry must,
I think it must,
Stay open all night
In beautiful cellars” Thomas Merton, A Book of Hours
***
High round windows
over wide glass doors
fill with night;
The world’s gone to black,
to void,
to nothing.
Can you hear your whispering blood?
- surge of surf, wind in dark trees
alive - alive -
so arise now and go
down the noisy steps
to the beautiful cellar,
to the poetry.
(18 March 2013)
