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.

Image Credit to the author.

For Cherwell, maintaining editorial independence is vital. We are run entirely by and for students. To ensure independence, we receive no funding from the University and are reliant on obtaining other income, such as advertisements. Due to the current global situation, such sources are being limited significantly and we anticipate a tough time ahead – for us and fellow student journalists across the country.

So, if you can, please consider donating. We really appreciate any support you’re able to provide; it’ll all go towards helping with our running costs. Even if you can't support us monetarily, please consider sharing articles with friends, families, colleagues - it all helps!

Thank you!