Ashes to ashes

Carefully Stacked Bones

Worn, weary, and full of wonder.

These carefully stacked bones carry
Weight of decades: secrets, sadness, sweet
Singing soulful — soul, full. A lullaby.

These bones don’t care if your name is Stick
Or Stone, Logos or Doctor Death
These bones sing the birth of blood

Bringer of life, bringer of water,
Bringer of mop and pail, bacon and
Blessings. Believer in joy, believing in you.

These bones have set your compass,
Your true north, even in the darkest night.
But these bones are tired. Set you down.

Your turn, now, to fetch and carry —
To dig and plant, to nurture and nourish,
As these bones once did for you.

These carefully stacked bones rest now, deep
In the fragrant earth beneath your feet, a throbbing;
Your veins reminding you who you are.

In every ruin I have ever seen or traipsed through, I imagine the people who built what must have once been a thriving center of life. I know that every one of them, and us, is someone’s child.

Writer and Kid-at-Heart, often found at Subscribe to my (free!) Newsletter:

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