The echo in the chapel chimes
as I take my unlikely seat.
It greets this new intoxication
with a moment I want to place
and hold
in a space of reverence;
this inebriety
as sober and calculated,
as bold
as the meaning I give
to the ticking silence.
And in this space of time
you can give any shape to –
you can call it a sea,
concentrate it into a crest,
a moon, a breeze –
I want to wrap myself
beneath the branches of a tree,
– maybe in a vineyard –
and breathe in
and drink
all the ripples.
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