what our bones know

what our bones know

note to self

hunch? sixth sense?
intuition? we don’t
agree on the name
but there is something—
it’s what our bones know

our dog sits alert, waits at
the door before we come home
“I time it” the dog sitter reports—
“always twenty minutes”

do we recognize
subtle tension or ease?
vibrations in the air?
thoughts floating by?

or maybe, just maybe
it’s hive mind, one shared mind
the source—bright, light
wide-open knowing

2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—please understand that many will be rewritten.

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