rune

last night the wind at my window spoke to me in a voice like snowflakes or waves and said, "i will tell you of your future." and so it did. as Stars and Moon laughed or cried forever far above, forever far away, i listened to the wind and lay in darkness and shadow, heavy with sadness and hope, but finding no peace. it's always the same. our lives are merely moments to the wind, which does not mark our passing.

so i'll ghost through this ethereal world like a shadow through a cloud, like the sound of a bell in fog, and perhaps in my own imperfect way i'll be remembered as one who was kind and honest, who was not too proud to go into the emptiness beyond without grand words or great works, and as one who was known to a few as a friend.

and i thought i heard the wind smile as i finally drifted away to sleep, but perhaps it was only the rain finally come to wash me away.

 

 

ghost