|Peace Bell at Hiroshima.|
There's a monk in Tibet sitting
in silence, broken
by the faint chime of a bell,
redirecting mind to the flow of his breath.
Rebellious thoughts repeat, repeat.
In Italy, an old woman kneels before lit candles
mouthing holy words learned in rote, ingrained
in her intentions for a different world
after she dies.
The clanging of bells startle her, like bombs.
A Navajo young man in New Mexico, returned from Afghanistan,
sits trembling in a sweat lodge, hoping
his spirit ancestors obliterate recurring flashes of trauma.
In the distance a church bell, swayed by the wind,
A man in New York rushes by a storefront.
TV transmits the news. He slows down a little,
catches a glimpse. He tisks, frowns, sighs
an unspoken prayer
though there's no god he believes.
His phone pings.
Anywhere, a high school student confused, tormented,
by myopic mind of bleak thoughts sits quietly
deciding - organize a protest? or kill the bunch.
The school bell rings.
We're all somewhere,
living different stages of grief,
not wanting to reach the level of acceptance,
May its bell loudly resound!
(Submitted to Poets United)