The bells of Danilov peal

When Gogol died the bells tolled at Danilov.

Stalin shot the monks and stilled the clang.

Sure: Bells may have softened Raskolnikov.

But they did not stay the hands of Stalin’s gang.

Iconic, like the biblical trumpet that extols

God’s bidding, enticing people with the tollen,

These ringing bells were beings with souls.

No wonder they unnerved Napoleon.

The monk says ‘Don’t listen for a chord.’

He swings the clapper on a rope.

An icon of the voice of the Lord,

The pealing bells jangle out in hope.

The bells boom out once again,

The monk’s arms working like a lever.

Though I can never entertain

The reek and hum of religious fervour,

I do accept that every bell has a soul
That sings in every peal and beats in every toll.