SUNDAY POETRY: "SONG"

(Photo from here.)

SONG

by Thomas James Merton

 

The bottom of the sea has come   

And builded in my noiseless room   

The fishes� and the mermaids� home,

Whose it is most, most hell to be   

Out of the heavy-hanging sea

And in the thin, thin changeable air

Or unroom sleep some other where;   

But play their coral violins   

Where waters most lock music in:

The bottom of my room, the sea.

Full of voiceless curtaindeep

There mermaid somnambules come sleep   

Where fluted half-lights show the way,

And there, there lost orchestras play   

And down the many quarterlights come   

To the dim mirth of my aquadrome:   

The bottom of my sea, the room.