Southwestern College Santa Fe, NM
Within the Hallowed Bones
I awake,
at this unearthly hour.
So, I rise,
on this desert morn’.
This unearthly warm,
desert morn’.
A cup of chamomile tea and honey.
I sit by the fire.
As the silvery blue light of the moon dozes on the window sill.
A light that oozes and seeps,
through the cracks and calls to me.
An old wooden sill softer than the cold comfort of the stone the night before.
As if in a dream.
My love nudged me closer,
to get a better view.
Our bodies entwined,
as we gazed in slumber.
As if in a dream.
We doze and watch,
as it all unfolds.
The dance of the earth,
the sun,
and the moon.
As my marrow churns deep within.
The shadow of the earth slowly creeps across the surface,
and caresses the silverfish edges of the desert moon.
It gently bathes the mystery of the moon with a whisper,
as the sun, the source, lurks luminously from behind.
The coagulated glow flows off the corpse of the sun,
as it releases its molten core.
As if in a dream,
the dance of the earth, the sun, and the blood red moon unfolds.
A howl grows in the dark.
A howl grows in the hollows of my bones.
The sacred marrow stirs,
within the hallowed bones.
~~ Mark C. Speight ©
Mark is a graduate of the MA Counseling program at SWC.
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