Feral

The time has come for gathering bones.

Bare hands knuckle deep
in dirt and dust
sifting
searching
fingertip feeling
blind eye seeing

disturbing all that has settled.

She has been long lost,
but I have found her trace.
Soon I will be singing over bones
and near-death ashes

to resurrect.

In this glorious reawakening,
bullsmoke nostrils will flare and billow furiously
carnivorous eyes will gleam in bloodthirsty madness
the ancient thunder will find it's voice and howl
moaning the pitch black birth of a new moon.

The song will steady into chant,
breathing movement into restless bones
and the corpse will steal flesh
to grow herself anew.

Hushed silence
and she is risen,
stretching
smiling

then sprinting wildly
and disappearing
swallowed by the darkness
that peels back
and bursts forth
into a million shrieking bats

to reveal
the surreal
midnight sun.