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A Ghost Arises

a ghost comes forth from the house of the dead, a rather unusual apparition – empty, desolate. 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. perchance it 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 of celestial 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 its presence. I shall follow it with boldness, courage, and great expectations as it leads me into my sphere of scotophobia.
03/02/2021 Inspired by, but not entered in, the Ghost Poetry Contest sponsored by Julia Ward

Copyright © Linda Fowler

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