Filip

My body soft vulnerable to the brittle boned aches to lend you shelter from arid attitudes sun scorched sorrows parched parchments of what was once life blood as if a body could. My soul soaring in sight of the peaceful plateau hungers to set hollow bones to flight to supply deaf ears wings to lift you from the dark cavity as if a soul could. But I cannot interpret the crags of your mountainous silence I can only feel what lies behind your eyes I cannot understand a heart bound in barbed wire but I recall a mouth that refused to smile I could not cradle bony feelings. I am on my knees confessing my inadequacy to spark the vital flame mutated in you. I confess my arrogance in believing I am the one who can rescue I am on my knees I am on my knees "Oh dry bones, hear the word of the Lord." (Ezekiel 37:4)