Fury

six thousand jagged pieces
splintered
throbbing, robbing

the third eye
triangulating
the tree's roots spreading
underground round

slide down
the mountainside
make a mirror a magic tide

lift the skin until it
snaps back again

hear a familiar voice
on the invisible line
a crosshatch pattern in time

the gristle and grime
all the holy men have gone
to sleep

and in the shadows lurking
a silver tune bellows below
murmur in the chest

and the rest
a story for another day

burning the cinders
the fury and flame