Soul, Body and Bones

Lying on the floor, as if it’s something I can afford to do.

From beyond the hill, sweet and thin, the call from the rose,- once again called me for what I owe.

“Oh my love” so she called “You’ve been gone for so long, I may have withered in your absence. Have I grown too sour for your love, have my petals lost their shine? What oh what, I ask you- is so important so as to leave me in this god forsaken vase- with too little water to wither. Me, the one who gave you what you now owe- a muse, a lover, the one you owe your soul.”

“Your petals have not lost their shine” I say “and your fragrance is as sweet as it once was. But my love, I must work, I must acknowledge my roots. It is simply unfair to leave the roots, branches and bones from which I did grow. And its is simple impossible to ignore the stone, coal and ore that do demand me so.”

“Then let me know. When your forest grow dark and your quarries grow barren and lonely. For you will never smell my scent too sour for your love and petals too dull to catch your eye as they once did. Farewell, my simple little man”

Then from the shade of the trees, nostalgic and old- once again calls me for what I owe.

“Oh my dear” They called “You’ve been gone for so long, I may have burned in your absence. Have I grown too old for your love, has my bounty become too boresome? What oh what, I ask you- is it so important as to leave me in a winter of my own woe- curdled by the deception of your departure. Me, the one who gave you what you now owe- a haven, a home, the one you owe your body”

“You have not grown too old” I say again “and your bounty is as plentiful as it once was. But my haven, I must work, I must care for my love. It is simply unfair, to leave the petals, thorns and leaves that love me more than all. And it is simply impossible to ignore the stone, coal and ore that do demand me so.”

“Then you let me know. When your quarries grow barren and lonely, and your rose grows withered and cold. For you will never see this forest too old, and bounty too boresome to for you to love. Farewell my simple little man”

Then from the depth of the mine, demanding and cold- once again calls me for what I owe.

“Oh my boy” It called “You’ve been gone for so long, I may have collapsed in your absence. Have I become too demanding for your liking, is my ore no longer worth the chore? What oh what, I ask you- is it so important as to abandon me, desolate in my own dust- worthless since the workers left. Me, the one who gave you what you now owe- your worth and your value, the one you now owe your bones”

“You have not become too demanding” I say once more “and your ore is worth the chore. But my mentor, I must acknowledge my roots, I must care for my love. It is simply unfair to leave the roots, branches and bones from which i did grow. And I cannot leave the petals, thorns and leaves that love me more than all”

“Then let me know. When your rose grows withered and cold, and your forest grows dark. For you will never mine your worth in this quarry too demanding for your liking and ore to worthless for your chore. Farewell my simple little man”

Now I lie on the floor, as it’s the only thing I can afford to do. Release me of what I owe: my soul, body and bones, Farewell indeed; farewell simple little man.

Released of all that he owes