Sunday, March 4, 2018
A Bell Rings Thus (poem)
A Bell Rings Thus
One bell rings from First Church.
The Revere bell rings out,
calling across common, town and wood.
One bell rings from First Church tower,
calling out, one bell, distant and plaintive,
rising and falling on the wind,
plain to me.
Counting time, counting forward, counting back,
one bell rings from First Church,
carrying time, carrying me, bearing me back.
Oh beautiful sound,
turning me from my desk,
turning me from my task,
rolling into my room above the ancient town,
calling across open air, into this open dormer,
you open a direct line from the cathedral tower.
From the cathedral tower, the bells are
calling falling ringing singing.
Calling above the old town, the bells are
bringing the morning, bringing their matins.
Ringing above gray streets, gray walls, gray folk,
reaching all, reaching me, the bells are
turning gray to gold.
ye harmonies hidden in the air,
you are a standing ovation of angels
singing on assignment, a posting from heaven to us,
announcing your mysterious angelus.
Bestowing, naming or knowing?
Perhaps all, none or thus.
Ringing in tune, each bell is
turning spinning clapping laughing,
joining in harmony, together creating
this standing ovation of joy.
Assembling in the air above the town,
pouring into my ears, your sound is
standing angelic in the air.
My music teacher, you remind me
of heaven’s harmonies in our world.
You are here all along,
but I forget, so I was sent
this ringing reminder.
Oh beautiful sound,
poured into the bells by the master bell maker then,
you are pouring your sound into my ears today.
Your first pouring is still ringing ringing.
The bell keeps ringing long after it was struck.
Now I am struck by your sound,
calling to me above the town,
ringing on your direct line.
In tune with yourself,
you are in tune with the world.
You do not need to be struck to ring.
bringing gold to the gray town,
turning me from my task.
oh beautiful sound,
a bell rings thus.
October 2015 North Andover, Mass.