The Angel Of Night

Silence guided me into sleep, and left me on the dark side of reality. Part of me sleeps, part of me wakes: I hear a low him of music nearby. It strikes my hearing like a slow flood of Gregorian Chant, enveloping rather than drowning the listener. There will be time enough in the night to say good-bye to the flesh, to bid farewell to mortal affairs, to uncoil all the entanglements of time, to feel what remains of a lifetime stretch out, so that my mortality touches eternity in an infinite moment of renewal. In the natural field of existence, I am a poet, that is, one who dreams with words - day and night alike - and makes life take on the texture of reality and poems embody hope. The future is illuminated, and a space opens for the present to flourish night and day. The Angel of Night will greet me again and again.