bones know
bones sense
where home is
when a part
breaks away
a fall
or worse
it seeks
its way back
so it is with “I”
this I knows home
feels the pull
toward the root
of the root
will ceaselessly
search until
searching is done
tries psychedelics
plays extreme sports
sits in prayer
or meditation
no difference
except nuance
but still believes
tools might help
maybe they do
trust your bones
2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
homing instinct
when bones break
draw them close
and they will find
their way home
that is their way
so it is with
each one of us
the pull is built in
coded within DNA
we long for home
our natural being
2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
bone house
some days I think
about all the bones in
this batty bone house
called earth—my calculator
coughs counting bones
near 8,000,000,000 souls
living now, 206 bones
in each one, much less
bat and bird bones
the trillions of fish bones—
an invention of consciousness
that apparently serves
but where do they go?
they dissolve into
love and dust and
nourish the ground
for what comes next
Thank you to Elias Amidon for the phrase “love and dust.”
2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
the heart of the matter 