Healer

When I was a child
I knew I was destined
to repair those ripped seams of skin
where the smell of blood
turns black
and eyes cry out
in audible agony.

Boys gathered near me
to watch my skill
in attracting ants
and the shining shells of beetles
on the playground
so that we might
build kingdoms and control destiny
for a little while.

Grateful,
we slowed the space
between the movement of day
into endless night.

Once a newly hatched robin
fell into that place of stillness
and the ants and beetles
disassembled her body,
carried her off to the burial grounds
with elegant ceremony
and prayers
to no one.
Each small and powerful body
released mystery into the air
like the notes
of a song.

“Watch us,” they said in their musical movement.

“Watch here and know
the envy of every healer
as they plunge their spirit
into the cavity of the body
and come out
dripping
with life.”