Whaun the bell rings
baith itsell an its echo
gie us wings.
Baith airms rax oot
the darg o it unfelt
ain side tae the lift
the tither tae yird
wund gies us hicht
licht gies us shade.
The heard veesion o the hoolets een
in deep derkness like licht is seen
aen moose moves tae the muins glare
the kill thats made is hunger shair.
Its thon point whaur the tongues
ain meanin leaves the verse
tae rin in the metrical echoes
that the verse itsell maun ken.
Blind licht left for the hoolets fee
kirkyaird torn crossed banes a hunters belt
bigget stanes strecht nicht licht burns
come the vacant wie see strecht saund ticht
in blocks mak strecht telescopes wi sters.
Intae triangles comes the saft soond o space
roond angles licht is the micht o the mirrors face
cauld intae crypts sterlicht ticht blinters
snake gods rise tae catch cats at hicht
breekit tongues find falcons an the yird turns.
Oan the lions back the final licht tellt
ster paiterns bigget for the lift tae see.
Whae kens whaur the word
gart tak its meanin frae:
the code o soond maks picters
deep delved in the lugs anaw.

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