Beneath Unseen Things

Under the willow roots

A skeleton lays, looking up,

Wondering what it means

That he cannot be known.

All the living things

Above the surface earth

Perceive their present moments

Unaware of what’s below.

An impaled heart

Over which the willow weeps,

And dusty bones

Snuggled firmly in the dirt.

Unbroken silence,

The tree’s buried shelter

For secrets of its regions

That no one could know.

Dirt for the dead,

Commotion for the living,

Hollowness to follow,

Vacancy of thought.

Lovers, ash to dust,

Marrow is to bark.

Love without a light

To illumine what they are.