Evening of Bells

I wrote this after reading a poem by Oscar Wild. (sonnet on hearing the dies irae in the sistine chapel) I tend to hear and associate different colors and timbres with one another. In the poem Wild is reminded of beauty through nature rather than fear of

There is life in this room,
Heaped among the rows of efficient pui’s.
Darting, in and out, vanishing

In thin streams.

Fragmented and colored,

The stained glass archways loom,

Their wine shadows flickering

To the evening vespers.

Distant bells float in among the voices

and the sundered cool

of evening air.

 

Must this be where heaven is?

Reviews

[Ophelia]

This is very mellow. I like how it flows. It's easy on the mind and soul. Almost reminds me of floating.

[Gandré]

oh I loved this poem, it was like looking through a milky glass....into internity....