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    Til Morning Is Nigh: A Dream Of Christmas
    Sometimes In Dreams (double album)
    Dream Together
    Electric Hymnal
    Angels
    BPXmas
    Of Love And Loss (double album)

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about

(spoken word)

Waking again
To a sadness always attendant, now
The longing and regret
Finding him even before first light
He thought, darkly,
That his whole life had been trying to imagine one.
And once it had
Like a miracle
Been made manifest in her,
It had been as quickly
Ripped from him
Before,
He thought,
He had even really known
Really lived within it.
It seemed a dream gifted
And then stolen.
Again, he woke like this.
Full of regret
And self-hatred
Beyond despair.
In a moment of clarity,
He made himself leave the house
Just to walk until his legs would go no further.
A mile in
Along the river
The estuary,
Its tide in,
The water unusually high,
A sound
The voice
Her voice
Lingered
Found him.
He stopped to listen.
Was it real?
Like a mantra
But broken with static and the day.
He seized upon the fragments
Memorizing them:
“… in the middle of a thundercloud
Inside of the rain”
Silence.
What could it mean?
He walked on
Along the river,
The estuary.
The sweetest of birdsong blessed him.
The spring day was hot
And he bathed,
Exulted in its swelter.
Suddenly,
As if the moon had eclipsed its master,
The light had gone.
Darkness blanketed the day.
And before he could find shelter,
A downpour
A deluge
Almost tropical
Warm and wet and delicious
Refreshingly
Soaking to bone
As welcome as a full body embrace,
Simply drenched and took him.
Without resistance
He gave in
Taking all of it
Its violence
Its company
Its unimaginable comfort.
In the moment
It seemed to last for hours
But was, indeed, over far too soon.
Over 20 city blocks
And perhaps as many minutes.
It had come on so very suddenly
The sky brilliant, one moment
The sparrows still calling to him
Before darkening in an instant
The heavens opening
Everything changed.
And just as suddenly
Passing west to east
Like a reverse sunset
Blowing out over the Atlantic.
What he now knew
The blessing
The “spring storm"
That she herself had once named
Was gone.
The sun returned to the same spot high in the deep mystery of blueness above
As if it had never been away.
He walked on.
His clothes began to dry.
He felt dizzy and sat
Alongside the trail.
And he understood.
In this moment the penny dropped.
He hadn’t missed it.
Oh, thank god!
Thank every angel in heaven!
He hadn’t missed it!
He knew.
And he wept with joy.

credits

from Deux Anges, released November 13, 2020

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Bipolar Explorer New York, New York

"Holy sonic icons. There is hauntology. Hauntology right in the center of their work."-Max Reinhardt (BBC 3/Soho Radio)

"Magical & majestic." -Indiemusic (France).

"Great beautiful, drifty-pop filled with sadness & wonder" -Irene Trudel (WFMU)

"Mysterious. Otherworldly.” - Carson Street, KFJC

NYC-based experimental dreampop trio of Summer Serafin, Michael Serafin-Wells & Sylvia Solanas.
... more

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