Spirits Poem by Scott J. Shepard

A howl chimes the night like rain
flowing through the breeze.

I am water.
Deeply running through my veins and howls again.

There are spirits here.
They enchant you.

They read out those real things,
real rosily in your ear.

When the rustle of the leaves crack
and crinkle you can hear those
spirits approaching.

They approach at the top of your neck
and slither down the base of your spine
like a seed falling from the tree.

The spirits are howling still
and the leaves brush the wind circling
around your feet calling you to
follow their path.

They lead you to your vessel and
you climb in ready to be immeasurable.
Ready to be planted in the earth.

You swing and wave about
like the infinite waiting to devour
forever.

You are forever and the wind
howls again.

Spirits.