The Ghost at my Side

I have always known of their presence,
But it took me some time to acknowledge it.
Visions are returning too me,
Motion and dots of light in my peripheral ~
Hints of that which does not want to be seen.
There is her,
The familiar woman with the white gown, raven hair ~
And silver earrings.
She is ever at the ready with a word,
Or sage advice.
She is not like the others,
She is neither ghost, angel,
Or a being of light.
Names she has a few,
None by which I call her ~
For she is Death.
But she is also Life,
The Earthmother.
The white dress,
Is sometimes made instead,
Of the blackest of lace.
Hers is an aura of silver,
The light of the moon without the harsh brightness of the sun.
She is the light of life glowing through Death’s veil.
She knows me well.
She has seen my heart.
And I, have peered into her eyes ~
Been brushed by her hand.
I love life all the more for it.

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About Fredrik Kayser

Everything is connected.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to The Ghost at my Side

  1. Ah, that must be it! Still, it’s just gorgeous :D

  2. Fredrik Kayser says:

    Thanks, Moonstone : ) No, but I have written similar ones in the past.

  3. This is gorgeous! I feel like I may have read it before, have you posted it in the past?

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