Ghosts

This is a repost of a piece from Nov 9 2011. I was trying to edit it and could not get it to repost in the same place.

~

 

 

Made of sand, made of stone,

 

made of broken pieces of jagged bone.

 

Sometimes I am broken and bruised

 

and sometimes I am raw.

 

There have been healings and saving

 

and heaven on earth.

 

There are times I have been

 

stronger than this.

 

Paths that lead us forward

 

through the moments of life defined.

 

Roads that are littered with remnants of our past

 

that simply lie in wait.

 

There are ghosts out there on nights like this

 

whispers in the dark.

 

Sounds that drift like smoke in the air

 

things I can’t un-hear.

 

As the echo of my footsteps keep pace

 

with the pounding in my chest.

 

I move through doorways that were left wide open

 

and the shutters with the broken latch.

 

The memories are knocking on walls

 

the voices are singing their songs.

 

A cacophony of discordant souls

 

that are wailing in unison.

 

I can hear them although their language

 

is masked in a voice not their own.

 

Intrepid, undaunted, they feign sanity and peace

 

when the darkness has settled on them.

 

I walk along beside them

 

listening to their ancient song.

 

Rapt in the rhythm as it sinks beneath my skin

 

and the words tangle up in my mind.