how do i call myself
to come home
when i have forgotten
my own name

how can i remember the syllables
that used to make my entire being
when that being barely looks the same

the one who knows
the old woman in the desert
of my soul

they say she knows my song
just as she knows yours
they say she sings to the bones

how does she remember where they belong
how they fit together and lock into another
until the skeleton of what was
becomes what shall be

how does she remember which
tonation and vibration
lifts magically my half forgotten
completely abandoned
soul from the dust

how her humming
her voice alone
carries me up and has me running
on all fours towards the horizon

before i even know it
before i even realise

I’m back upright
toes digging into the dirt
leaving footprints I recognize
as my own

KH.