Morning Bells

Jump to Comments

I awoke to the tolling of bells:
the ancient clanging,
the mystic jangling
of the heaviness of bells

in my heart.
Deep did the brassy throat call
to me
in spectral salutation:
ghostly yet familiar,
like the ashen, expressionless face
of a love departed.

Did I sleep through the changing of tides,
eternally swelling
estuarine telling
of the age-old story of tides

in my heart?
Long did the briny voice sing
to me
in reedy exultation,
mud-caked and gasping
for the rush of reversal,
the moon’s invitation.

Did the bells mark the turn of the tide,
the bright pealing
in concert sealing
the wet desperation that cried

in my heart?
Somehow the brine and the brass
intermingled
in living dissonance,
resounding through empty canals,
flooding my memories forgotten
with the warmth of the weight of the water.

3 Comments

Filed under poetry, water