excavate

Gnawing on the bones of the dead
Like a rabid dog oozing
Infected creative juices
Dripping
Drenched with sweat
Underneath
Begging for the hot coals and fire
Walking the path
Staying in line
Past, present, and future aligning
A transaction of transferrence
& Agreements well met
Transmutation in transmission
Third gear is grinding
Sometimes getting stuck
In the mud, muck, and mire
Good thing we have 4 wheels
Two hands to drive
One friend to hold the space
& Pretty pictures of smiles
Writ all across our face