Wild Bells

If I were a bell, to sing with the chorus of the heart,

to ride the wind and feel the dawn from the start,

to never fall asleep within a dream forgotten.

The evening star approaches.

It sings in a whisper, “Where to begin?”

But even broken bells still sing out.

Their song may become lost, for time will doubt,

drifting back slowly to the spark of life,

lighting the way through sorrow, stronger than any knife.

A song, a whisper, a heart, a fire,

life as a river, dreams to transpire.

A bell, a light, a change, a star,

songs of the wild bells, whether near or far.

The sun will rise, as it always will—oh, what a sight.

Show belief and stand alone to greet the coming night.

I still believe that sun will shine.

A flower blooms in the city—is it yours or mine?

Silent petals roam with a hopeful song.

Wild bells are still ringing;

there will come a time to walk along.

Peace and silence sweep over the crying sea.

Cheer up, wild bells—

a smile to shine and set us free.