The Study Of Obstacles

 

Tools of flesh rock,
bone powder piled
by the ocean's edge,
cry at wings in battle flight
with heavy fashioned voices.

Weather-mottled stumps
plucked dry of seed-will
hunger by the river,
bend man-paths around their roots
to the clay quarries and sand castles.

A dark badge hangs
on my dirty vest,
its motto engraved
in unreadable language, a call
or a promise to forgotten gods.

With its weight balanced
by my robe's holes
I climb onto the
closest height and study the obstacles
between myself and the natural boundaries.