6
The number six
card in the
Celtic Cross reveals the
near future,
Death.
The image- skeletal, sometimes
on horseback, or a
reaper,
inevitable,
expressionless, jars something
loose at the cellular level,
shortens the breath,
freezes the eyes, an
instinct to outrun,
deny,
preemptively grieve.
Death is transition, the
closing of a cycle and the
opening of new life, an end of
a shared life, the start of an
individual one.
Fresh, yet to be
fleshed , the soul
picked clean to
reveal bones.
4 thoughts on "6"
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Wow. I love the last verse! I felt the hope and vision in this. I’m not sure that’s what you meant but that’s what I took from it.
It was, and thank you!
Fresh, yet to be
fleshed , the soul
picked clean to
reveal bones.
A fella once told me, when I was literally freaking out: “It’s kinda chilly with the skin off your bones.”
I was babbling incessantly and someone screamed out, “Jazz!”
The fella slowed the tempo and calmly said, in a compassionate manner, “Yeah it is jazz.”
That’s what this poem made me feel.
I mean, yes, the freaking out but then realizing that even though change is painful it’s full of potential.