To tell the future
start with a piece of time.
Past, for example, is readily available.
Tear a tiny fraction
for your curio collection. Be careful:
every time you look at it
it changes
          —don’t trust it.

Find your ancestors’ bones
—or, more correctly,
your ancestors’ bones will find you.
Work even with the bones
of those you hate.
Making peace with shadows is
why you cast the bones.

Make sure to add the movement
of a planet. It is, after all, the best way
to travel to the future.

Finally, add an eye.
(it only works if it’s a fake)

You are now ready to cast your bones.
When you do, pay attention to
the things they don’t say.

Keep your ghosts with you. They are what
urges you to ask
what makes you pick up
the bones in the first place.
Ghosts never have answers
          —only questions.

Know that the bones
don’t have answers either.
Every bone only points at
a lesson that might come. The bones
are great teachers.

When others laugh at you for trying
to know what hasn’t happened yet
ignore them. They think that
reading bones is turning inwards
facing away from the future.
They don’t understand
it’s us who love it most, a love so deep
that poisons us. The bones
are the only antidote.

When those who fear the future come
to seek your counsel
heal them. Tell them
what they already know but are
too afraid to listen.

If you catch yourself wanting to cast them
again and again, remember that
they know as much as you do
that they only speak a language
you’re ready to understand.

Be warned: every time you cast the bones
you pay a fee to the universe.
You’re robbed of your present
to know the future.
Pay the price wisely.

Be patient.

The future will come
to meet you halfway.