This week, as we sit with the theme of taking your power back, I wanted to share a poem called Bones. This poem almost made me cry when I wrote it. I don’t know how many times I have had to walk through fire, feel burned, or be reduced to ash by life’s casual atrocities. I think many of us know that feeling in some way. Everyone has war wounds, battle scars, burns. We can be hurt to the bone, and we can also love someone to their bones. I wanted to embody that feeling in this poem. Life is full of emotion, and those emotions need somewhere to rest. Even when the fires try to reduce us to ash, our bones still remember. They carry the light of experience, of knowing, of love. Even when love hurts, it was still love. Bones My bones are not mine. They belong to you. Metacarpal - I reach out, touch your soft parts. Spine - I feel your curve behind. Ribs - a guard against free will. Femur - I ran when I could no longer stay. Stirrup - the tiny beat after all. Scorched remains, charred from fires deep, blackened from smouldering ash. Splintered, cracked, ground to dust, recast, reset. The bones inside don’t forget. They grow in toughened sinew. Wisdom in flames. Burning bone-white, dance through the dark. For today’s Gathered Gold, I invite you to sit with this thought: What has life taught you that now lives in your bones? A one-word answer is more than enough. A sentence is lovely too. Share only what feels right today. I’ll go first in the comments.