WHERE THE DEAD ARE BURIED

Searching for honey among stones
Where the dead are buried
What lies concealed forgotten
In neglect.  Discovery is
Discovery of self. The hive
Protected, an army of bees
Patrols a dark crack
between boulders of granite.
The mountain fell on a town
Burying all who could not escape.
My deep wound has decayed
With time, feeding ants who came
After the worms, free of gluttony
Like the bees, their queen is king
Androgynous undivided anima
Their scouts always searching
For sustenance, around which
To organize and carry off
Matter, purposely concealed
To postpone their fate
But in postponing we define
The end of our exploring.

c) Jan G. Otterstrom F.
    July 25, 2008