The bells are ringing.
Calling flocks of believers.
Summoning those resolute.
Determined for a cause.
Glorious peals and tolls of doom.
Messengers and harbingers.
Remainders and reminders of centuries past.
Bride, radiant and glowing.
A vision in white.
Easter lilies and crimson red roses.
Fragrant cascade and fervent hopes.
Awaiting the first chimes to call her beloved.
Then jubilant, triumphant peals.
As they walk together, hand in hand.
While mourning doves soar in flight.
Glorious melodious morning.
A moment in time.
Burnished in their hearts.
Sealed in golden time.
A young soldier.
Lies in bed as another night closes in.
Listening to his heart.
But from depths unknown.
Eager and ready.
Stalwart; he awaits his call.
That same sad toll his mother dreads.
Off to battle.
Perhaps never to return.
Now, there is no escaping.
As the bell drones on….
Noon-time brings blessed chimes.
A brief pause to reflect and renew.
Soothing, serene sound.
Now the traffic of life swallows up and silences,
this sweet refrain.
No longer time to stop.
To be still and silent.
For little more than the few moments gained.
As we scurry through, yet another day.
The bells of December.
Bell-ringers, resplendent in their festive garb.
Call on the angels.
With strains of the Halleluiah Chorus.
And bring a special magic to the season.
Outside; the snow continues to fall.
Frosting the emerald trees.
Painting a scene of wonder and light.
small and large.
Gold, bronze and silver.
Smooth metal, shimmering in white towers.
Sometimes, blackened and cracked.
May they remain.
A special part of our future.
And for all those to come.
Not resigned to the fading, forgotten past.
PS: In the small BC city where I live, we rarely hear bells of any kind.
But this past week, I did hear some church bells ringing and it was lovely. Maybe a wedding!
Also sharing with Poets United
“The Bells” © 2008 Geraldine H. Hartman
from the poetry collection: My Poetic Path