ravens perched up high
above dark apartment blocks
winter morning, Bonn.
Sweet suffering silence
The gap between thoughts
The gap between sounds
The silence that exists before the first note of a symphony
The silence that exists between the lightning and the thunder
It makes you tense
It makes you sweat
It makes each and every hair stand erect upon your skin
The beautiful fermata
In which everything and nothing happens
In which you realise you are exposed and vulnerable to the entire universe.
Occasional dispatches of florid prose and metre.
Copyright © Gerard Atkinson 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from the owner is strictly prohibited.