Beautiful Cellars
‘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.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
