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Writer's pictureEdward Riederich

The Bell

I heard my calling

When I heard the bells

I learned the former

From what history tells


In the here and now

I have learned the past

I have gained insight

From what I have asked


Those bells, yes they ring

From a hidden tower

Inside of my heart

They echo each hour


Yet I contemplate

In the dark of night

My calling from above

This calling to write


About this calling

I began to think

What if I neglect

This dry quill and ink


But those bells don't stop

I discern them out loud

In spite of the noise

In spite of the crowd


Rejecting all doubt

Resisting the devil

My one aim and desire

It is the next level


I notice a bell

In a certain steeple

It speaks in the land

Out to many people


Whether it's a song

Whether it's a warning

It speaks in the evening

It speaks in the morning


And now I must speak

My heart does require

The Word burns within

Like a raging fire


Though a vessel of clay

May God's bell speak on

And may those words speak

Even after I'm gone


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