wet ink and blood

a poem

Photo by Afonso Azevedo Neves on Unsplash

you clutch your book
a commonplace
of unfinished thoughts
waiting for
the word to speak
for ruach elohim
to hover, to cover
to fill them with life

you wait for the prophet
to speak to the winds:
anger, joy, fear, and love
fill the lungs
with your breath
animation from above
make these dry bones
live again

there is no scratching
in the night upon the door
nor leaves that scatter
in the dark
the sound is your heart
wet ink and blood
spilt and traced
on dried skin

© Darryl Willis