Belltower

I

Il Campanile, before three layers rose
Found to be winking at the sun,
Its south-sinking perspective
Declining towards Rome.
Hands of Pisano Bonnano wrung in despair
Before the bells were lifted up
To peal for passing glories,
Toll for the price of mortality.
Then turn the difference to a celebration,
See the tilt from another angle,
A spin on conventional wisdom
That it was ever finished.
Crumble it may as marble cake,
Yet overcome.

II

Rising with the turn of the staircase,
Arising with the sun, this elegant marble
Like a reclining hostess, she bends upwards
Supporting the sway of many steps.
Flashes of fire extinguishers inside,
Glimpses of restoration,
Scaffolding holding,
Braced for impact.
Rising on those sloping sideways stairs,
Thinking each new level the last
Before emerging below the bells,
The final ascent through the crack of dawn.
Head and shoulders above the town,
Mount Olympus cannot stop us now.