Day 626 of the daily poems. Our poet Colin Pink is inspired by climbing the church tower in Rye and seeing the enormous bells close up – acrobats of sound that hammer out their music …
A peal of bells
The bells rest, silent, immovable, among the rafters;
they sleep in towered seclusion.
It is unthinkable that they should speak, as if a rock
were to ask the time or a tree
match ones stride through the shadows of the forest.
But as I watch I imagine them stirring, swaying
as in a breeze, and see them heft
themselves up and roll back their tongues to lick a note,
hammer sound into a bright ball,
toss it out to awaken those who slumber too long below.
A solitary clang speaks of the forlorn but together
they join in joyous conversation,
and tumble about each other, acrobats of sound,
so happy to be together.
Colin Pink
from Colin Pink Acrobats of Sound 2016 Poetry Salzburg Press