cold mist
dark wind
and stench like death's own
firstborn son
i am a shadow
laid to rest
life's long struggle
under stone
and seal of spice
then
****** heat
pulsing light
voice beyond the dark
and stony veil
calling
forth you dead.
come forth
flinty foot
faulty step
to haste, obey the call
and rise
from chained slumber
filtered light
through crossing thread
woven cloth
to wrap the dead
unbind him
set him free
...
and halted there
in frozen time
his hand
has pulled away
a strip
or two
and sight from blindness
has restored
but still
the itch and irk
of grave clothes
not unbound
i feel it all around
a finger moved
an opened eye
the breath of life
and hope to die
to wake again
broken free
of death's cocoon
forever.
before the end is the middle, and there am i, frozen in time, waiting for the consummation