(after Arvo Pärt)

The silence is for those who listen.
Whatever is given
is taken away.

Like a foetal heartbeat
it is faint at first,
the low murmuring of the Miserere.

With its chorus for calming
or raising the dead
the trance-canticle levitates us

with its sostenuto-long vibration.
It’s as if time has left us waiting
for time to fade.

The solitary bell
sounds like a calling angel,
a stranger on earth.