For the clarity, for sound clearing a turning
And reverberating onwards in time like a tremor
This before the lake turned placid and clear.
Before was a storm of voice, Tavener’s lament
Gathering speed against the bells, a long trek
Homewards to garden. There trills a magpie
Certain that these intervals speak music again
Heart-song breaking into a cantus for all that rings
True. Even bird-harmonics reach beyond us.
Copyrighted by the author