Spirit Words

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I don’t know when they will come

or if they will make it down

over the hills in the rain and the weather

obliterating all visibility

or will they be caught

up in the soft ground

layering the almost mountain

or snag themselves on the hawthorn

trees or trip over a forgotten headstone

buried in the north field

maybe they’re flying

sense over reference

hurling themselves forward into my

world of imagined meanings

if it weren’t for gravity

and impact

of that which was done and lies

unspoken in the cemetery

no words descend

like anything that matters

they fall like children or child soldiers

carved into the walls of ministries

even prayers of solid marble

are inaudible eventually