St. Jacques Toll
The bell at St. Jacques from high on the hill
above comings and goings of everyday folk,
would the whole of our valley with resonance fill
as if from Olympus Apollo's basso bespoke.
It rang on its own without pulley or rope
or an arm to power its percussive voice,
as if prompted within by effervescent hope
that all the young lovers hear passion rejoice.
Like a heartbeat of our own, more sensed than felt,
rythmed life was pulsed, unconsciously heard,
till stillness of song birds inevitably dealt
Death's moment of silence without spoken word.
We don't miss what we love until its been lost,
neglect or distractions allowed in the way
of sustaining what's precious, its replacement, a cost
uncalled-for, too dear, impossible to pay.
Poems From the Goober Tree http://nathoo.wustl.edu/goober_tree.htm