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by Christina Reihill

In the silence of silence

A voice whispers time's timelessness

A voice trumpets space's spacelessness

A voice echoes alone's aloneness

And there still, we're centred in being

In the silence of silence

Words drag to the drift of cotton clouds

Thoughts tumble to the splash of spent rain

Dreams hide in the presence of presence

And we, too weary to move, stay

In the silence of silence

We crouch in the teardrop of ache

We lie buried in the blur of love's toll

Awash in this wreckage of darkness

We salute Aengus at our helm ...

Sunday Independent