Ghosts
Haunting is the silence we experience. Especially during the holidays. Some of us spend these tiny pockets with big gatherings that fill our corners, but in the night, after the clanking of cutlery, cheers and full bellies, we get back to where we were. If solitude comes with invitation, it hugs with a safe hold. If we shut doors, hoping it skips our doorstep for the neighbor, it ends up next to us with a heavy slow. Somehow it manages to slip through all those walls and protections we built for so long.
I exist at the border of solitude. I don’t mind it coming when I am ready, but I am not always. Christmas shifts between these two extremes. From big family to silent night and I wonder what can be done when the arbiter releases the black dogs. Nothing really…I don’t feel like chaining them to a trap as they keep growing until there is no way run. So, I invite them in and feed my insidious scenes as snacks. They love it. At least, they get full and go back so I can have peace return to my throne of tides. But I wrote a poem about this, called ghosts:
Yesterday carried the
Certainty of winter
I had my core lit up
In the nightly cheers of people
Dinner was served warm
Home like mothers palm
Everyone inspired by
The confidence of charm
Now on Christmas Eve
I feel this shake beginning
Around my navel and
It keeps coming for my wake
I pray this paradigm shifts
Like light gets stronger
After the battle of the solstice
Fear ties the cradle of life
For I conclude I feel a lot
It goes away and comes again
Stark shifts like a camera
Lens clicking through time
I sit and watch my familiar
Souls having their wheels
Of fortune on favoring sides
And I can’t help to release a smile
This dance of happy and sad
I hold them both in my hand
And switch out of control
Ghosts visit like old friends
If you are haunted by sounds
That pull you down, you’re
Not alone. Reach out to
If lonely is at your door
I pray that it rests up in
A corner that’s far and
Makes space for easy so
You feel held this time
—
Keep Breathing,
-A