The Bell Song
between the gaps of living, a bell rings clear—a pulse flows
from dirt to acknowledge that things are not as they once were.
what am I? space stretched upon skin and a mouth wild
in protest, in love—kneeling, am I devoted or a martyr?
if you tend to me, am I a garden or a wound? not an indecisive
shoreline, not folk songs of mild victories, not downcast gazes
or the sun drenched in shadow—old shadow—but strips
of nascent sparks. forgotten yet revered, sunrise made to
sprout in contrast to windswept branches, to bodily extremes—
not dust collecting in adhesives, not the chained or the unhappy.
the bell tolls, fluctuation of ropes along shimmery heights,
this is a good world—a land that prophesies and promises,
a smearing oil portrait that runs and runs and runs but never dries.
this is a fresh person—creature of sharpened throat but soft palm,
beneath the singing bell, I am a garden with earthy wounds.
there is a place for me here—I am unlearning the sentiment
of the misfit so I can bury myself into belonging. ear turns to sky,
the bell tolls no longer—I am so consumed by love, I am so alive.
Stefanie Lee is an ambitious 18-year-old writer from Montréal, Canada. Living with a physical disability called Nemaline Myopathy, she is currently pursuing a STEM-related collegiate degree in computer science. She was recently featured on Medmic.com for an interview regarding her poem about overcoming scoliosis. She hopes to share her unique worldview as a young disabled woman who continually seeks the beauty in every difficult situation.
