The Adventures of Arvo/Part II

- Last night I dream Paraclete. He came as crow, to-sit on sill of window. On feathers, white stave. Notes, also much white (situation opposite life, yes? Bird so black): a score, music. I creep, wanting much to read wing-tune. Then, its holy head turn to me. My feets freeze. Thing open now mouth. I gasp profane. Beak so wide; I think, is not possible. In maw, I peer at galaxy, star, and out-space. I knew immediate: bird eat universe.

- His mouth, did it open like this, Arvo?

- Quite!

Arvo Part - Spiegel Im Spiegel