Transition

And is this what you were expecting,
after a long journey through the night?
To arrive in this pagan place
and understand that it is here,
beneath the earth, within the darkness,
that you will find yourself.
Naked and exposed, and alone,
you will gaze at the bones of a hand and say,
‘Here I am,’
in a voice no longer your own.
Then sit a while and wait.
Remember. Forget.
Until bones turn to dust.
Animal, mineral, chalky and white.
You. Not you.
But.
Something else is growing.
Someone else is waiting.
Curled up and listening, whispering, transitioning.
Through soft bloody flesh,
emerging into light.