A poem about ghosts (words below the video)…

When The Ghosts Come…

There are those among us
Who go a-hunting for them.
With torches in hand
And breaths held tight
At the stoke of midnight
in paranormal search they wend
Infra-red gizmos calibrated
To detect the unbodied
Those who were
Our once dear
And now, sadly departed kin
Stuck somewhere between
Here and there
Wandering and lost.

There are those among us
Who go a-talking with them
In sodden graveyards
By the light of the moon.
In secret ritual they invoke
With magical chants
Mind-altering potion
Or rapt, solemn
Meditative intent:
Calling forth the souls
Of the dead but not gone
To commune with them.

There are those among us
Who go a-dreaming with them
When the night is black
And the living deeply sleep
Dreamers with ghostly sight
In supernatural encounter meet
That which exists in the unseen
Between here and there.
What do the seers see at night?
A message, a ghoulish sight
A spinning orb of angelic light?
Only the dreamer can say
In the drowsy moment
Before the spectre fades away.

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