There are things we cannot change about this
New faith we find has come: its bells, its ways—
Anathemical to all we know.  Is
Our way to be lost?  No. But, they’ll erase
All they find if we don’t hide what is here
And save it. Away. The best we can do
For our world, right now, is to disappear
Away from forests and the fields, into
The caves and cliffs. For there will come a day,
We know, when life will change back, when these bells
—These clanging things of lies that swing and sway
And cry, with iron tongues, of foreign hells—
Will quit and rust away; the air will still…
And we’ll return from cavern and from hill.

Poem by Juleigh Howard-Hobson

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