Exposed
she’s bathed in moonbeams
bare but for a necklace
made of bones.
They chatter secrets
as she dances for the stars
and shimmer down her chest
like polished stones.
Their gentle rhythm
echoes laughter in the night
To be carried by the wind
across the land.
And her ancestors gather there
inside the light.
Their spirits called through time
by her command.
She listens to the wisdom
of their words.
Ancient secrets offered
to her vision quest.
Then she pricks her breast
her blood a sacrifice
that turn the bones
to rubies where they rest.
She sways in fluid motion
on the rock.
As she communes
with other souls that we can’t see.
Till in the darkest hours
she learns the truth
That every moment holds
eternity.
Patricia Gibson-Williams
December 10, 2005
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