Volume > Issue > The Bell Ringer

The Bell Ringer

A POEM

By T.J. Kelly | April 1984

He disturbs

The sleeping bells, the stolid sounds

Locked in the iron tower

That hold indifferent resonance to

The germination of a seed,

The cutting of a flower.

He wraps the ropes like ivy In the groinings of his hand

And dances

Blending joy and sorrow

With the falling sand.

To Phoebe*

Phoebe,

Gentle handmaid

Of us all,

Who assisted Paul

And others

Of the early church,

…

Respect (Rev. 3:20)

Gentle Lord, I love You.

You tiptoe ‘cross my heart.

You sit beside me quietly…

Twentieth-Century Adam and Eve

As aliens yearn

For the native land.

We still return

To the garden —

Taste…