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A late-morning coffee at the Cathedral of Light with a grandmaster of organ music –Jan Vermeire. To be still, inside the heart of an organ, and to absorb Chopin. To be ropewalking high above the altar, hearing one’s heart’s dance.

The article I’m going to write about this magic afternoon will be published in December.
Now, the poem impression.
The heart of a church organ
Gives up its secrets,
When the organist places the score
On a panel
Above the manual,
And blends into a butterfly.
His wings kiss the keys
In fatal tenderness,
They flap
Exasperating the patience
Of a giant but gentle whale –
The pipe instrument.
Cascades of memories and arpeggios
Arrest my lungs.
The outcome is love.
Jaw-to-jaw with one’s heart –
Inside the organ,
High-above the church altar,
To pronounce rich loud
So loud that it fills the entire Koksijde.
Now and forever-more,
To remain
For another 10 centuries.
Litres of blood pump through the veins,
Partituras of love run in the whale.
3 keyboards and 43 stops
To heaven!
A flight of steep and narrow stairs
To the tangible but evaporating
With every played note
Listened and heard I was,
Listen, and here I am,
to float along the fragrant valleys of
along the banks of two sparkling Swan Lakes-
the eyes as black as
this motionless Oak Moon night.