Silver in the Bones

Photo by Maximilian Jaenicke on Unsplash

A Poem by Liv Ross

My bones are cracked to get at the marrow.

A tangle of fissures are opened wide

When my flesh is flensed by trial and harrow

And crows worry what’s left to get inside.

What good a shell is ossification

If it won’t protect the well-spring of blood?

What can I give in conciliation?

What more must I do to secure Your love?

Just bury my body in empty tomb.

Set me down in the space where You lay,

And as I sleep there, I’ll find it’s a womb

Reknitting my body for the bright day

When cracks are all filled with silver bright

And bones are not brittle, but soft and light.

Liv Ross writes rich poems that hold many layers, playing with format and embellishing pieces with rhyme.

You can visit more of her work here:

@liv_ross_poetry & @je_suis_liv.

Liv is an urban monk, a poet, a painter, a birder, and a student of Christian Spirituality. She has been engaged in creative writing more or less consistently for two decades and was slightly startled, though far from displeased, to discover that poetry is her medium. When she’s not writing, Liv practices gardening, pipe-smoking, leather-working, and mischief. She lives in the Midwest with a dog, Jedi, and two cats, Gandalf and Patroclus. Peeks into her work can be found on Instagram @liv_ross_poetry or twitter @je_suis_liv.