Poem: Hearing the Bell

By Marti Pease I walk down a path: a child smiles in greeting and gives me a flower cupped gently in his hands. The child, the flower, smiles "Breathe and remember, remember, come home to yourself,"

The brook sings and dances over rocks down the mountain, awakening a song hidden deep in my soul. The brook, the dance, sings "Breathe and remember, remember, come home to yourself."

The sun breaks through clouds and I feel my heart open like the sun radiating pure joy. The sun, my heart, pulses "Breathe and remember, remember, come home to yourself."

I drive down the highway. Green light becomes red as a flaming sunset, red as a rose. Red light brings a moment to breathe and remember, "Remember, come home to yourself."

The telephone rings out its bells of remembrance. Friends across miles breathe and hear the same bell. The bell, in this moment, rings "Breathe and remember, remember, come home to yourself."

A friend smiles and offers tea, steaming and fragrant. In this round cup I hold earth, fire, water, and wind. The circle, the fragrance, whispers "Breathe and remember, remember, come home to yourself."

Marti Pease is a family therapist in Schenectady, New York, who wrote this "insight poem" during the retreat with Thich Nhat Hanh at Omega Institute.

PDF of this article