Ghosts - The Haunting

Ghosts – The Haunting


For those of us who feel more comfortable around ghosts
Their delicate touch
Their innocuous chatter…
For in a sense we all sleep.

Wouldn’t you dance on the winds
oblivious to the pain
even if the pain were your only reason for being
whatever you are now…?

God has forsaken you and all.
What scares us so from looking into the faces of the dead?
The extreme sensitivity that puts us at risk in the world
Channeler of spirits
Of unbearably raw wounds

Will you let the million spirits
The spirits of children, playful and unaware of their plight
Those who have no memory and no future
The wise old spirits who chose to stay by our sides,
those who wouldn’t be satisfied by the heavenly ether
Will we let their voices reach us till they become a clamour?

Which is most unbearable
The voice of old truth we learned to forget
Or absolute silence?

I feel comfortable with the dead
Apart from a certain elation of alienation
Our planes are so distinct
Only the very lost will want to hurt you
But in many ways they were us
We are they
Metaphysical blueprints of past lives
Bequeathed to us
Bewildered and in pain.

Why Why ??

But they seem unconcerned by reason
They sway and sing and sing
While I stand beneath them
Wringing my hands for sadness
That pain is so manifold
That pain is a restless hunter
Of souls, be they clothed in flesh or in light.

Why do we do this?
Why do we bring forth such pain
To the living
To the dead
Does it ever stop?

The earth may sustain us stubbornly
But I flinch and I am dizzy and blinded
Peals of laughter from you
What consciousness do you have of your loneliness?
Or, for that matter, what awareness have we of ours?

Maybe we are the spirits in your world
And you pity us for our short-sightedness
Our awake and dream states are so hermetic to one another
They sometimes let wisps of thoughts float through

Are we your ghosts as they are our dreams?


I used to wonder where the wind came from
Maybe you initiated it playfully one day
You clothed in it
And ever since it hasn’t been able to rest
It blows over the world over and over
With you in its wake
Sometimes it breathes down to a shiver, a ripple
Then it picks momentum and power
And roars and screams and tears.
But why?
I ask why again
And you laugh
The patterns of the wind we may able to understand
When we can hear your songs clearly
When we are strong enough to embrace you
When we aren’t scared anymore.