—
BONES
Do you hear your bones speaking?
Of the groaning glaciers and the ice waters
Released from the dark caves.
Of the small things you do not weigh up.
Of the large things, so large you are oblivious.
Of the earth swaying on tip-toe
To see the glorious horizons
That the gods dream of.
Of the rumble of sunlight
Piercing the hillside cairns.
Of the feathered footsteps
Of the reborn.
Under the still shade of the yew trees
Your bones speak,
But all you feel is fear.
The tipping point, the cliff edge.
Fingertips turn to pinions,
A hunger for corpses.
You can never steal the gold
That is the due of the gods,
Nor the silver that is the blood of the moon.
It shall all be returned.
That is what your bones say.
–
simonhlilly 