Running on Church Bells

I stumbled out into the light only to find an empty space
Under my bare feet lay the sands of time, now cold and stagnant
I stooped to scoop a handful, the gristle of eternity scattered around my ankles
In my bare palm the grains etched long-lost constellations 
The sand was heavy and dark, my wrist bent as the back of a washerwoman
I brought a granule closer to my frozen eye, growing larger and larger while my lashes stood
Unblinking
Unblinking
And then that piece of sand was a church bell, corroded and rusted, cracked, missing a ringer, but still a church bell
And then all the sand was church bells and they shifted when I walked and I couldn't hear their pealing but I could feel it beneath my bones
So I ran
Every step shoving aside, displacing church bells
Every step shaking some skeleton that was not mine anymore
That thing's feet were bruised and bloody and that would rust the church bells but I didn't care so we kept running
Running to a sound I couldn't quite hear
But when I could hear it I would hear heaven so I kept running
Running on church bells