Her ghost passed unnoticed
Craving tenuous form
She gave up so quickly
As if she didn’t belong
She now wanders the land
Looking for a host
To connect spirit to soul
A body to behold
Too often she had looked down
Upon the body that was hers
Treating her sacred temple
Like a hotel, to use and go
Even temples need upkeep
Stones, a mending hand
Or wind and rain do wear down
Your temple into sand
Shifting sands soon bury
Memories that do not sing
A song of life, a song of love
To the spirit that lives in thee.
I don't believe in ghosts, but I do think we have met in another life.
I like this Anita, we all need to treat our body as a temple few do... Andy 10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wonder and realism merge in this thought provoking write 10++