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The Opening
by Kay Weeks

My heart is beating faster, so it goes,
as if I hear sweet ringing of the bells–
this music moving into me that flows.

I feel unearthed and also taken low.
Or is it high? Or is it long like miles?
The voice within me flushes, yet it pales.

Beyond my understanding what I know,
your coming into view like ocean swells–
this music moving into me that flows.

The dancing heart descending to my toes,
something in me budding blooms then stills.
The voice within me flushes, yet it pales.

Would dying feel like this? I cannot know.
But on the wind a memory of bells,
of music moving into me that flows.

Your face recedes, a tired prayer, I know,
this slowing of my heart almost foretells
quenching of desire—so now the close
of music moving into me that flows.

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