Haunted by the Chimes

| Flower Roberts

I think of him when the wind blows.

I have his chimes.

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I listen to their notes and wonder.

Is he sending me a message.

Is he spelling it out in the musical notes A, C, E, F, B?

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What is he telling me? Is he calling my name?

Or do the notes just bring me back into this moment,

away from my plans for tomorrow, back from my worry of yesterday?

You can’t see the wind. You can only feel it and hear it.

Is it an unseen proof of faith?

I hear it singing. I watch its moving shadows.

He was here.

Now he’s not.

Or is he?

6 thoughts on “Haunted by the Chimes”

  3. You know I love this. Yes, he is not here, but he is. For me, his wind chimes whisper:”Pay attention–embrace and feel this moment–this life–of fleeting beauty. Your distress is irrelevant and shortsighted. Be comforted. Be at peace. Find joy right here, right now. Do not mourn for me, for I am free!”

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  4. She has come to me in dreams. She phoned me once – dreamwise – saying “I’ll be home on leave Friday”, and I asked her “Can you really – from where you are?” And she came – in a dream a few days later. She was relaxed and happy and strong. Told me that when she died she got cured from her illnesses. And she smiled and said “You know what? I’ve remarried!” This was in a dream, and she’s come back in dreams, and she’s always glad and strong. By Midsummer it will be five years since she died.
    Ellington

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