Vultures, ravens and crows have often been regarded in history as being harbingers of death, or birds of ill omen. This is simply because they are drinkers of death. They bear witness to the roots no one else dares to see. They are there when death calls and they benefit greatly from it. It nourishes and feeds them. It keeps them pushing to see another sunrise. I think there is something poetic and beautiful about creatures that are ostracized because they are deemed too dark to receive light, especially when darkness and light are two sides of the same coin. Without decay and death feeding the mycelium, what whispers would they have for the roots of the trees? Part of the beautiful interconnectedness of our world would be lost without death and life communicating. We would sacrifice the delicate cycles for immortality. Without life, death is not possible. The opposite is also true. Bones & the Undergrowth is a collection of poems about death. It is about living. It is about dying and being reborn. It is the miracle of existence as much as it is the tragedy. It is about witnessing the beauty in the darkness. It is an ode to the vultures, ravens and crows of the world
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