Bones Hold Memories Poem by Patti Masterman
Bones Hold Memories
He said, the bones hold memories
Cremation can't remove;
I cradle your bones, the precious
Silt-glass reveries of watered sun,
A singing motion that circles round
(And every kind of hidden weather)
Nothing's dead, so long as bones live-
Survival's inexact, because those bones
Still whisper days, that now are gone.
You're right, we are not completely inexistent in the matter, as long as the bones are still existent. This matter is self aware , because it has consciousness, so the bones may whisper-great poem, Patti, thank you for sharing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 9:19:36 AM # 1.0.0.1119
some of those lines are killers. like '' silt-glass reveries of watered sun''.... great line