Poetry & Art

I am not the maker

by Emma Blas • April 3, 2020

I picked a beautiful thing
until it was down to its bones,
laid out in front of me,
turning to the next person
I proclaim;- “it is as I thought,
it is a skeleton beneath!”

And just like the watches and motors,
we took apart to understand
how they worked,
only to find we couldn’t
put them back together again,
I hold only bones in my hands;
collagen and calcium,
made porous by my pecking,
I realise, to my cost,
I cannot remake muscles
or ligaments, I cannot breathe
back the spirit through its missing mouth.

All the time forgetting
it’s not just hands and mouths
that need to eat,
but also the ravens,
and the mongoose,
also the maggots.

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by Emma Blas

Emma is a British poet living in Northern Spain. Deeply affected by the elements that commune to create our physical and emotional landscapes, she finds herself responding to the call and response it plays with humanity. By profession she works within the Diversity and Inclusion field, and once-upon-a-time spent a lot of time in India, immersing into spirituality and yoga. Her poetry explores transitions, shifts of phase and form in the natural world. You will find her at the beach, walking through the dramatic landscape of Asturias, or with her hands in the soil, trying to learn from the earth. it is these crossing points between the physical, psychological and imagined states of life that are anchored in her poetry. Find more of her writing at www.emmablaspoetry.com

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