Wake The Spirits

Won’t you meet me in the after
where I remain and you are gone?
Where there are no angels, devils
or ghosts, but an empty house—
won’t you come?

Won’t you meet me in the void
where my heart betrays me
and hope survives?
Where the earth is frozen
and the sky is white—
won’t you come?

Won’t you whirl your wind around me
or place a whisper on my pillow?
Won’t you leave a song outside my door
to break the silence in this house?

Won’t you meet me in the winter
when it’s midnight and turned cold?
When I’ve outgrown the void
and outlived the hope,
when my soul believes you’re gone?

Won’t you meet me by the old maple,
where you left me when we were young?
We’ll tell stories and wake the spirits:
I want to know what you’ve been up to—
won’t you come?

2 thoughts on “Wake The Spirits”

  1. Here is my comment. . .we don’t know each other in this life, but I am so in love with you I can’t stand it. . . .because I am this close. . . .begging you to notice me. . . .I am your lost happiness, and you are my lost joy. . . .together, we are everything. . . .apart. . . we,, too, are ghosts. . . .

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