Our bones gives our bodies structure during day and night.
Keep them safe for they will keep you upright.
The bones of the world is a more complex creature.
A creature made from small things and all things. So tells the teacher.
Our lives are made up from skeletons of life.
Bones we can’t see that keeps our souls alight.
The bones of the world we can’t comprehend.
Bringing more bones to the pile that we have to make blend.
Our growth as a person is our own struggle that we fight.
Bones are broken and healed to be just right.
The Bones of life is an amazing and vast gift.
A gift that you can either take or let it pass you by like the wind.
The Nomadic Eagle
Posted on December 9, 2012, in art, daily life, Dark poetry, life, light poetry, literature, poems, poetry, writing and tagged Bones, braking bones, compromise, dark poetry, healing, humanity, life, self reflection. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.