The Bell Tools Again
Poem By Subhadip Majumdar
Again the bell tolls. Somewhere far away from a distant Church. The cold winds pass and the feet sinks into the fallen leaves within the ornamented flowers and the scattered petals on the brown soil. There the murmur of the river and the song of the bird and the shadow walks all alone over the bridge down the road and then further to that river side where long ago a promise has been made. It is time that promises are uttered once more and the shadow picks up one petal of a flower wet as if with silent tears of a beautiful girl. Then there is the chant like a sacred prayer of a pure love.
With each brush of winds the shadow feels the pain.
And like a soothing touch the smile comes with each gong from the Church.
The bell tolls..the bell tolls..the bell tolls..