Bringers of Life

And her hand rests on the skull

As She gazes at the flame

In some Dark Room

She shines in Yellow

*

He holds the child, or

The lamb

In the crook of his arm

To slaughter for sacrifice

A feast for the few

*

That old woman knows

The songs of all the plants

she sings to them when

she ends their lives gently

*

and weeps a little moment

with a soft gasping

for the pain in her heart

of loss and of longing

*

We come toward the lands

Where the ending is beginning

and we learn to walk with nevermore

for the sake of the unmended

*

the slower the better

with great bravery

the will of belief

and the power of love