MAGIC
for Jon
The brass or bronze cup, stroked at the rim,
round and round, begins
to hum,
the hum slowly
buzzes more loudly, and rapidly now
becomes
the clang of the bell of the
deep world, unshaken, sounding
crescendo out of its wide mouth
one note,
continuous,
gong
of the universe, neither beginning nor ending,
but heard
only those times we take
the cup and stroke
the rim,
diminuendo,
only seeming
to cease when we cease
to listen…
No comments:
Post a Comment