The Guardian
He pours through my soul, like silky hot chocolate; I dream of loving smiles and a golden heart. A guardian spirit whose voice I’ve heard only once. You kept me safe as I trembled, looking down that gun barrel and told me things would be fine if I didn’t move. No child should be a bullets victim and you interceded; kept that demon brat’s finger and the trigger. Now I see you in dreams or a fleeting glance in a corner of my eye; you’re always there; the granddad I never had a chance to know, in this life.
Spirits ride the winds;
Soft etheric caress is
A spirit’s embrace.
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