Challenge
You are visited by what? A ghost? Spirit? A lost love? A forgotten memory? A harrowing experience you are reminded of?
Only a dream of possibilities? But you did have a visitor. Tell the tale and tag me.
No word limit and don't limit your imagination.
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. . . We have a Visitor.
We art hallowed ground that we’d visit still,
we who whispered loud at the entrance hall...
who sent longing drafts by sighed window sill;
who then echoed back our own slightest call...
We are sacred mounds from clay compound; fired
yet soon tested by the slim nerve endings...
poked and prodded in our thin membranes; tired
of the outside that seeks small openings....
And soon presses thoughts as of Itself/ soft
not yet parted to show the Spirit how....
to act alive in its warm shelter/ clothe
of Life before Death and Its endless Now...
We are greeted by our own molted paths;
far crossed journeys in slow heated baths.