Monday, June 04, 2007
Sometimes I Held a Ghost in my Arms (poem)
Sometimes I Held a Ghost in my Arms
When we huddled together by the first fire,
we were told each to seek our fate.
I raked a pebble from the coals
and read my future:
“The One Who Seeks.”
And so it is
that I have moved
since then
from sea to forest,
from village
to lonely hermit’s hut,
ever searching for the
thing I needed,
a ragged shadow always
moving just ahead..
Sometimes at night
I held a sighing ghost in my arms,
sometimes at daybreak
I was kissed by
a thousand angels.
Each morning
I brushed the snow
from my sleeve,
began my quest anew.
Some said that I had it already,
carried it with me
wherever I went,
a gem which gave of its secret strength
to those I met
along the way
who peered and
were dazzled
by its rays.
Others vowed I was a lunatic
crazed by too many nights
under the unsteady moon,
too many evenings
muttering into the wavering fire,
alone, in the forest of darkness.
Cain the outcast
wore a sign
on his brow.
Mine too has been
singed by god.
Dorothy Walters
June 3.2003
