We Followed The Sound of The Bell


The author found herself walking amongst the trees. The bell led her there. It led her deep into the woods, from a small park that had been carved into the center of a busy intersection...


Sirens blaring. Buses humming. The motorcycles rev their engines as men pop wheelies as they ride past us.


The patrons of this park aren't used to seeing people dressed in all white from head to toe.

We are not screaming.

We are not wailing.

We are building and Altar for Protection.


We anoint our Heads and our Bodies.

We light sage, and walk around the park.

We pick up the trash.

No, these patrons have never seen anyone like us.


We salute the four directions,

the Sky, and the Earth.

Hands held high,

our feet strike the ground in unison.

You would've thought we practiced this.


The bell reminds us not to be complacent or arrogant.

The sharp tone lingers in the air.

A call to action.

The bell reminds us to move

with purpose and intention.


The bell rings to clear the air.

The bell rings to drive negative spirits and energy away.

We follow the sound of the bell.

We are bringing our offerings to the river.


We follow the sound of the bell,

as our Elder leads us into the sunset.

We can barely keep up with her.

She leads us across the massive street we call Broadway,

down a steep hill, past a hospital,

this was supposed to be a short walk,

but the bell moved us on...


Our Elder left us at a crossroad,

with the wisdom of the bell.

How many offerings had she made?

How many times had she been granted safe passage?

She knows the bell grants infinite abundance to those who do the work.


Woman dressed in all white,

we couldn't tell if she was ringing the bell,

or if the bell was ringing her.


The bell rang as we felt the transition of the ground beneath our feet.

First pavement, then dirt.

Deeper into the forest, until the trees covered the sky above our heads.

Deeper still, the trees and low lying bushes greeted us as we passed them by.

The wind carried the sound of our footsteps, propelled us forward,

and dried the beads of sweat that tried to form on our faces.


This short walk turned into a hike.

Flatland gradually ascended. Our feet did not betray us.

Deeper into the forest.

We did not look back.

Deeper into the forest.

We did not question.

Deeper into the forest.

We followed the sound of the bell.





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