There’s a stirring

There’s a bell, a distant bell

heralding Sunday, ringing

in the traffic-still morning

of her slow-eat breakfast,

ringing, ringing.

 

It’s a day, a lazy day

promising leisure, calling,

in the late-rise hour,

to her slipper-shod feet,

calling, calling.

 

There’s a stirring, something stirs,

evoking memories, reminiscing

the worship-spent times

of her long-ago days,

reminiscing, reminiscing.

 

There’s a yearning, deep within,

arousing longing, and desiring

for the warm, tender years

of her close-walk journey,

a desiring, a desiring.

 

And the bell, its soft ding-dong,

brings contrition, and confession,

in her quiet Sunday house,

to her set-aside God,

there’s confession, confession.

 

To her heart, her poured-out heart,

comes regret, and repentance

for the self-centred years,

with God pushed out,

a repentance, repentance.

 

As the bell, the distant bell,

rings out a welcome, inviting,

in her tear-stained spirit

there’s a deep response,

to the inviting, the inviting.

 

There’s a promise on her lips,

a resolution, a renewing,

of her God-follow vows,

and a worship-him plan,

a renewing, a renewing.

© Ellen Carr 2013

 

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2 responses to this post.

  1. Posted by Merryn on 15/02/2014 at 10:44 pm

    I love the words and the rhythm of this poem!

    Reply

  2. Thanks Merryn!

    Reply

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