For Whom the Bell Tolls by Lena Solomon

(thoughts of Hemingway on a theme by Rachmaninoff’s  – Choral symphony)

Through yet unimagined,

particles of sound, or waves,

if you will

the calls of bells

blast out of every flower,

flocks of dark swans

in a bundle of long tailed notes

Echoes of sounding bronze tolling

petals of stories over my eyes

call out for gods’ mercy

in songs of fluttering wings –

triumphant entrance of angels

While the huge church bell stays quiet

the flying devil, in angry agitation

fills up the air with chords of war

Betrayal

levitates above the desert

Above the treetops in the park

Listen, to the church bell chiming!

For whom, it tolls the song of triumph now?

For whom the song of death?

For whom the past a-changing?

For whom the present stays?

For whom the future’s fighting?

For whom peace – a dream?

Who drowned in a sad story

What brings next gust of wind?

Hear the huge bell chiming

something of an end

night’s fall or sad day’s break

then silence –

metamorphosis of dread -

a funeral, like many others

on a flying comet,

voices,  - metallic trepidations

like words engraved

in crystal tombstones

in a star’s neighbouring yard