Prayer Flags

the cold wind
stings and bites
into half-dead skin
ready now
to be shed
and blessed;
scars and wounds,
some healed, or
not healed -
chants of private grief,
framed in eternity.

memories and dreams
tied to
unwavering trees,
stories of pain
and longing
left untold still,
like silent prayer flags
dancing and riding
on the breath
of a fanning,
folding wind.