“Music is pleasing not only because of the sound but because of the silence that is in it: without the alteration of sound and silence there would be no rhythm.”
Thomas Merton, No Man is an Island


The grave is empty.

Darkness, half lit by the blurred moon,
Chilled by the sea, the fog waiting,
The enthralled stars, nearly lost,
Searching for another earth,
The dark soil waiting for the seed.


The memory of a fireplace,
Warmth with music
Undulating arias
Like small birds falling into darkness.

Cold rain

Driving against my window.
Muffled music and dreams of water,
And another grave.


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