You hear big stories
Yet you do not have
A big story to tell
But then you are told
It will take too long
To write a love letter
So you write a love letter
Plus a birthday card
For good measure
You discover that perhaps
Your father played a hand
In your sense of humour
Sadly he is long long gone
As also is your mother, who
Without doubt gifted you her love
You listen to the bells
The church bells that is
From across the valley
Their rhythm becomes your rhythm
As also did the Tibetan bowl
Struck by its wooden thumper
It rings long for you, true for you
Day into night, night into day
Hear what I say, hear what you say
