Ode to a Windchime

For May, in May time...

O! I feel a melodious breeze kissing
My left cheek, while a breezy melody
Brushing my right: a distant windchime hanging
In midwinter spring, or in May time. I,
Too, feel th'internal wind stirring my soul;
And, guided by that mighty Spirit, free
Of earthly thoughts, I hear my own chime toll -
Monophonic, but not without th'echo
Of history: music of the celestrial.
The mighty Spirit's breath conducts a flow
Of melodies, an arabesque of tones,
That interwines with the breeze of Time. O!
Yet all harmonious windchimes are but common stones
If their sounds no one hears, their silence no one moans.