Tombs. {poetry}

{photo by Jen Young}

{Photo credit: Jen Young}


Trace the graveyards on my flesh

You want to visit cemeteries on the Earth

but I have tombs of wounds that are yours for the taking


Carry my bones in your mouth

Hear the chips rattling from the inside

Shouting my despair into the soggy air, haunted by my howling screech

Don’t close your eyes when they show me the ancient pain of your hurt

Coating my life in the bloody history of your war


Demand the answers while I crawl too slowly

Fanning away the buzzing flies from my past,

Chasing the darkness that I swallowed

One pill at a time

Anger, sadness, confusion

Numbness — stuck in my closed throat


Shake the dried leaves from my branches

Strike the wooden shell of me, your hammer turning rusty from my tears

Release that hidden lightening burning for years in my scarred trunk

Tell me to stop this misery — my own — and the way it dripped like silvery Mercury onto you

Poisoning the best parts of you


Shout your words, your love, your strength at me

Rouse my thoughts from sleep

Your words, my words

Soldiers in battle, swords raised

Because I don’t want a silent end


Hold my beating heart-scare

Between your gentle and whole hands

A light shining in your eyes at your knowing

Death Life Death


Tie my acres of veins around the globe

Marking our compass path of the future

The roads of the path like rough guitar strings,

leading the way out into the pulsing planet


Find the muscle of my Spirit

Buried deep within my own false chest

Bang your drum with the loudest of sticks

Send out the flock of blackbirds perched on my artery wires

Where did they go when they swirled out of my body carrying my fear, which dusted their velvety night-drenched wings?


See the lush pine mountain peaks of my depths

covered in splintered truths and lonely lessons

Water the dry, cracked earth where the sturdy roots grow deep, even in a drought

Follow the curves of my valleys up and down

moon-reach highs and mist-soaked lows

Bliss Dark Bliss


Visit me in my sleep when the dark heaviness settles around my body

When you hear me gasp

Hold me close

Suffocating the fear

Your protective courage ushering me to the light


Run back toward me riding your starry faith

Crack open my cold armor and find my crushed, folded butterfly wings

Your hand following the filament edges gently and carefully

Freeing me for flight


Was that you standing behind me in the fog of my dream so long ago

Demanding I open my eyes

And shove one foot forward on the grassy trail

Crying out that I can live

Breathing air into my lungs?


I have lost the angry screeching hours

The decision will be real now

No longer masked in my horse-beat flying hooves

But shown in a solid-footed walk to your soul-door

Where you grasp my straw-colored sun-bleached decision.


MauraCoyneMaura Coyne is a seeker, a dirty wild horse girl, and a lover of the passionate life. She practices hypnotherapy, equine therapy and energy/breathwork to assist others in removing the blocks and obstacles that often prevent them from moving forward on their life path. Teaching others to transmute the heavy and dark challenges that they face, by moving them into the light of creativity, strength and spirit, she is committed to healing herself along the way, and witnessing miracles in Nature. If you are interested in a little soul archaeology of your own, contact her at Wild Goose Farm, named for her patriarchal Coyne ancestral line. She aspires to continue going on wild goose chases for the rest of her time on the planet.


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