Hear the Bells

 

Bells ring.

Alarm bells,

striking the hour of the day.

Shaking me out of my

silent reverie,

into a dark world

full of endless

empty streets.

 

Hear them ring.

Church bells at noon,

and I am young,

far too young

for the knowledge

that floats in my head.

Bobbing along,

like the wreckage

of a plane crash;

cargo,

bodies,

and loss.

 

Bells in the fog.

Herald of the harbor.

Guides me past

the rocks

and safely home.

It is strange

to know in life

two journeys;

one tragic,

the other, jubilant.

 

Bells in my head.

Acknowledging the threat vector

does not mean

there is no

corridor for ambush.

Hairs on the back of my neck

stand jack pine stiff,

as I feel

my enemy’s eyes upon me.

Too vulnerable here.

Keep moving.

Stay ready.

 

Wedding bells.

Ring out on the day

that changes so many lives.

A primrose promise,

and vows

spoken before God

in a little,

inner city church.

Preacher speaking

about the words,

and The Word,

but all I can think about

is how you take my breath away.

 

The bell tolls.

For whom?

All of us

in time.

Angels strike the hammer

and we are all called

Home to our Father,

eventually.

We’re gonna wake

from this dream.

It’s a fact;

the only fact, really.

Whatever it means.

We’ll all hear the bells

ringing clean.

 

 

HG – 2022

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