Bleeding Ground

When the ground speaks whispering deepest of sorrows

Seeking release of the wounds long held for others

Seeped into soil, morphed into stone held until a daughter came home

Gold & greed begat fear & blood

Peaceless, restless, still


Rain washes blood

Wind blows dust-to-dust into the distance

But the horror men do to others is held in the heart of the Mother

until a breath of relief is sighed across time and bridged



© 2020 by Ingrid Oliphant