The Bells of Matins

The starry vault is turning round
Above my thought-beleaguered head
Where sleep eludes and thoughts abound
Like bloodhounds chasing foxes red

But when the dark first touches dawn
I hear a sound that calms the heart
Imparting strength to labor on
Converting chaos into art

I lift the curtains of my eyes
As chimes depict an open land
Replete with treasures under skies
To be unearthed by ready hand

Now sun-struck bells in daylight break
The fog for solar zenith blessed
And christen soulish atmosphere
Until the spirit reaches rest

© Kurt Mähler

Picture: Town of Stary Sacz, Poland