Poems Alive In Bones

 

For NaPoWriMo – day 13

Card 116, Gallery 2

Also For We Write Poems prompt: Almost A Poem
http://wewritepoems.wordpress.com/

Poems Alive In Bones

Sometimes as she walks,
rhythms of her footsteps
become open door to
meditative state. Today,
she is thinking about
bones.

How, after decomposition
of all that is temporary, what
is left is just bones. Having
lost even a name, nothing
remains to distinguish this
individual from another.

Yet, there are times when
she knows that she knows
truth of a thing in very bones
of her being. And that truth,
written or not, is marrow
of existence.

Wonders if years from now,
boiled down, her bones might
become soup of nurture for some
weary traveler. Digested, truth
she knows that she knows so
deeply, will strengthen his bones,
become staff on which to lean,
bringing about genuine conviction.

Or perhaps, from whatever stew
might be cooked, truth, like
fragrance traveling on air, might
create hunger followed, swallowed
to build other bones to be buried,
boiled down to bare essence,
bringing to life once again,
its essential flavor.

She smiles at thought that her
bones of deepest truth might
one day become poem, slipping
naturally from lips of a far-future
other.

Elizabeth Crawford  4/13/11

Notes: Whimsical image created after reading Neil Reid’s poem, don’t call me poet, in which he writes, poem sits some while inside the bones.  Neil’s poem can be found here: http://bearlyaudible.wordpress.com/2011/04/12/dont-call-me-poet/    That set me thinking about poems living in bones, and how that essence might be transferred to future generations. Thank you, Neil.

Soul Cards: both galleries may be viewed by clicking on the image. They were created by Deborah Koff-Chapin, and her site may be found here:  http://www.touchdrawing.com/