Poetic Resurrection

i stepped onto - now hallowed ground,
in search of bones upon to dwell
bones still seeking to be heard,
through poetic voice,
in word transformed

my search spanned o'er a 100 years
i could not find, not one bone
in need of contemplation, not one bone
in need of resurrection

all the bones had taken flight
graves robbed by poets come before
writing lines of life now gone, no bones left
to dwell upon for (me) to free
in poetic verse -
and make grave light

in sweet regard to these empty stones
i turned by heart away
my need for pen and ink not lifted, as noon
felt dusk now nearing; soul and bone
long past leaving

my eye when caught beneath a willow
its limbs weeping - a
robin calling (now silent in her sleep)
her bones now speaking - to my bones
that sought release
through grace and ink - to look beyond
this worldly face seeking

in the quiet of her silence - she
spoke of her days
of children bore in spring and fields
laced trees webbed in autumn seed,
flowers transformed by wind and time -
the sun she loved the world she knew
her wings now heavy

my hands raised to ink her life
to pen her dreams, her song at rest
as with each word a long laid feather lifted -
from her silent breast
as with each word my heart made light
a transformation written -  touching dusk
to guide the flight
as together our bones now lifted

bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2019