It was late one March night after we saw Superman in theaters,
I got home and heard my phone chime with a new email.
It was from my grandma, who had died a few years back.
Maybe it was just a glitch in the system
or maybe
She really did hope to see me around Christmas.

They used to put bells in grave yards,
So the dead wouldn't be trapped if they came back to life.
So they could tell us that they were still here
That they are still here.

We have an obsession with talking to the dead,
Don't we?
Séances, Ghost Adventures, Chris Angel.
We think that they are trying to tell us something.
But what?
"They miss us"?
"It'll be okay"?
"The money is hidden behind the sofa in the den"?

Or is it not that they have something to say,
But that we have something to hear.
They are still here.

Maybe I'll develop an app
For people who have just lost someone.
Their phones will chime at 3 a.m. on Friday morning
With a message saying
"I am still here."
The graveyard shift will light up with a million chimes,
Bells tolling for the living.
The dead saying that they are still here.

And maybe It'll have a button
So we can hit reply.
And it will send a message to the dead
Saying I miss you, and I love you, and your husband isn't holding up great; he misses you too, and the million other things we want to say.

And maybe in the afterlife, the dead have bells,
And at 3:01 in the morning,
A thousand chimes will be heard in the sky,
Bells ringing from living to dead, and back.

A cacophony of "I miss you,"
Orchestrated to the tune of forever,
And sold for 99 cents on iTunes.