I have a bone to pick with you!
But perhaps we shouldn’t fight over bones
Of loved ones lost in accident or battle …
The body is all you may have
To bring you closure.
So you may believe!
At life’s end only bones are the lasting remains
Sometimes one bone is all you may have to bury
But many a catacomb has row upon row
Of sightless skulls staring into the dark.
At the rest of their bony selves!
When you bury you perpetuate with bones
Bringing the possibility to de-inter.
When you burn you have ash to scatter,
Scatter in holy waters obviating return.
So some believe!
Often there is just a finger or toe bone
Held in a gilded casket in some remote chapel,
Purported to be the last remnant of a beloved Saint,
Where by touch you can receive healing or a blessing.
So long as you have faith!
Unseen energies: feel them in your bones!
Are your bones really that sensitive?
Or is the Spirit making itself felt?
It is able to do this, but still …
At death the Spirit stops and should move to memory
As the Soul continues its journey into eternity
Waiting and wondering what set of bones
Will be its next encounter with Planet Earth.
It plans with probability but uncertainty!
So often you tend the graves of loved ones
On anniversaries of birth or death
With flowers, candles, incense. Who needs them?
You maybe, but certainly not the dead.
You may be sure!
As passing unseen energetic portions fly away
Leaving you with a familiar body alone,
Recognisable, but just a bag of unwanted bones.
For you to see what death looks like?
You wonder what lies beyond!
© David Tenneson 2015.