Bone And Breath Poem by Annalee Somerville

I am made of bone and breath
shaped by wind,
weathered by time
held together by the quiet fire within.
The earth knows me by weight
the sky by rhythm,
I move like smoke between the seen
and the still-becoming.
Bones echo with stories
not mine alone,
but passed through marrow
by those who sang to the stars
before language had shape.
Breath is the drumbeat
the tide,
the gentle flame that does not ask...
but is.
No name is needed
for what I carry
It is older than names.
Older than loss.
Older than fear.
I walk in the hush
between heartbeat and horizon,
bone remembering,
breath returning.
I am the silence
that listens back.