Listen to the world’s best poetry read out loud.

May things stay the way they are 

in the simplest place you know. 

May the shuttered windows 

keep the air as cool as bottled jasmine. 

May you never forget to listen 

to the crumpled whisper of sheets 

that mould themselves to your sleeping form. 

May the pillows always be silvered 

with cat-down and the muted percussion 

of a lover’s breath. 

May the murmur of the wall clock 

continue to decree that your providence 

run ten minutes slow. 

May nothing be disturbed 

in the simplest place you know 

for it is here in the foetal hush 

that blueprints dissolve 

and poems begin,  

and faith spreads like the hum of crickets, 

faith in a time 

when maps shall fade, 

nostalgia cease 

and the vigil end.