Peter Gabriel Favors Small Bells (San Jacinto,Mercy Street)

I wish to hear the gentle, rhythmic
shaking of small bells;
when not in my thoughts,
I seek in recordings.
I remember the last time
I actually heard them played
close to a year ago at my mother’s funeral
remembering the tiny echo in the silent church,
not quite filling the room,
reflecting off stone and glass
and falling away quickly.

At the visitation
so many small feet
shuffling in and out
enough to make several grand ones
if such addition was possible
all looking up at full faces pointing down.
Life fills the room slowly at first
then ebbs away till alone
almost.
When on a schedule, it is the way of things.

But I remember the bells most and first,
a herald to beyond; not a fanfare,
small, sweet and too quickly fallen away.

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