A Ghost Arises
comes forth from
the house of the dead,
a rather unusual apparition –
a wraith so worn and
frail, it barely seems
there, as if suddenly thrust
from its icy winter shade.
it rises without sound, or maybe without voice,
a solitaire and lonely
shadow without form.
I wonder what its purpose
is here on this day
and whatever its plans for during its stay.
my fear aside, I can’t discern its intent,
dark or light, heaven or hell, good or evil.
I feel light and goodness on the one side and
dark and evil as it turns its back to me.
is here to help guide
me, but where?
It seems a lowly darkle, unenlightened
and slow, but it turns with clear
vision and song of
light with an order
beings from God’s land.
I am edified.
It is not the size or shape of the gift,
but the inherent purpose and intent of
I shall follow it
with boldness, courage, and great expectations
as it leads me into my
sphere of scotophobia.
Inspired by, but not entered in, the Ghost Poetry Contest sponsored by Julia Ward