The Bells
Church bells are pealing a cadence at dawn
Voicing their sorrow for souls who have gone
Sounding their sadness at gray break of day
Grieving the shades -- I hear them that way.
The bells of the village are singing with joy
Chiming in pleasure, such chords they employ!
What happy occurrence this splendor to cause?
Ceasing my reading, I ponder with pause.
The bells so familiar an anthem they sound
Hope for the world, could they have found?
Who could be pulling the ropes so intent?
Sipping my coffee my doubts I relent.
No comfort the bells a clatter they make
One can’t but shudder, not music but ache
Signaling trouble, signaling pain
A dreadful foreboding of nothing to gain.
The bells once familiar fell silent this year
Thinking it over the message seems clear
Defilement of nature, men do as they may
But the God of Spinoza will have the last say.
© 2024 Fowler W Martin
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