Each evening in Antwerp, the little and big bells ring together

in a layered sonic collage of signals, or waves of awakening

just beyond sunset across the city;

each bell, simultaneously, tells its own particular story

-the sharp birdlike chirp of the younger one

(toned to awake like a trumpet still polished!)

wakes me up to prepare for night each evening,

and then the mid-toned baritone one comes in

saying, again, hello; this, just before the bellowing cathedric one

rollicks in something which will never pass (something like the word assurance).

A loving Tone I know

which vibrates even being.

Each, alerts us in specific ways

to something we can’t quite recall

but which, nevertheless, seems still

pressing or resonate, somehow already installed, on some level.

In fact, each evening here

i get snapped out of spiritual amnesia-

or whatever form of forgetfulness i’m under-

by bells alone!