The Bellmaker

They brought him swords with broken blades,
Old shields that rusted in the glades.
Bent spearheads gathered from the ground,
Dead iron waiting without sound.

He asked no banner, rank or side,
Nor where they fought, nor how they died.
He fed them all into the flame,
For fire makes every weapon same.

Ring it high across the land,
Let every valley understand.
What once was forged to wound and kill
Now calls the living from the hill.

Let every sword surrender flame,
Let every spear forget its name.
The steel that taught the world to fight
Will sing beneath the morning light.

The mould was cracked, the bronze revealed,
With scars from sword and shattered shield.
The bell was raised above the square,
While silent faces gathered there.

An old man saw a mark remain,
A notch he knew from years of pain.
He touched the metal, cold and scarred,
And knew the sword he’d carried far.

Then others saw what time concealed,
Their blades reborn, their wounds now healed.

Ring it high across the land,
Let every valley understand.
What once was forged to wound and kill
Now calls the living from the hill.

Let every sword surrender flame,
Let every spear forget its name.
The steel that taught the world to fight
Will sing beneath the morning light.

The bellmaker raised the hammer high,
No king commanded from nearby.
No army waited for the sound,
No marching feet disturbed the ground.

He struck -

And through the morning, clear and strong,
The weapons found another song.
From hill to hill the answer rolled,
A voice of iron, bright and bold.

Ring it high across the land,
Let every living soul now stand.
The swords that once divided all
Now speak together from the wall.

Let every scar become a flame,
Let every blade release its name.
What once was carried into fight
Now rings beneath the morning light.

And those who knew that metal well
Stood silent underneath the bell.
For every blade they’d borne before
Would never draw their blood once more.