The little bell on the porch beam
Only speaks when spoken to
It hangs there patient all day long
Through all the heavy heat
And when the first night breeze arrives
It rings out small and sweet
Not thunder, not a trumpet call —
A sound you almost miss
The still small voice comes gently
The way the wind-bell rings
And if I sit here quiet enough
I hear the smallest things
One chime means"here's a little wind"
Two chimes mean"here's some more"
It's summer's smallest radio
Reporting from the shore
It saves its silver sentences
For when the air leans in
The still small voice comes gently
The way the wind-bell rings
And if I sit here quiet enough
I hear the smallest things
All day the big sounds took their turns
The kettle and the clock
But night belongs to smaller bells
And conversations soft
Mmm... mmm... mmm
The still small voice comes gently
The way the wind-bell rings
And if I sit here quiet enough
I hear the smallest things
The still small voice comes gently
The way the wind-bell rings
And if I sit here quiet enough
I hear the smallest things
The little bell on the porch beam
Says goodnight, ring by ring
