A Bell Rings

The ring of a bell, The sudden smell of honeysuckle, The moments that carry you, The need to hug tired strangers, Drifting dirt-covered angels, In the summertime. With July brings perfect doubt. As I float in chartless territory, The only thing I ever wanted to be So far away, and so present and alive, But in colors and faces I cannot recognize, A rippling mystery on the top of my tongue. The slide past the heart. The ancient, tonal ore of the spirit Here in the red dirt of Mililani Where I am torn, limb from brain, mind from matter Dreams from mud, ghost from flesh. In each instant is the lesson told and told again: That love is always new. A drop of rain, calls, From the hills. A bell, rings. And love cares not. Love loves, indifferently.