The Last/Lost Spirit

P.C :- Unsplash ; Nick Fancher

there is a season and reason for everything,
in the liminal space of everything and nothing,
my darkest fears cloister in a bejewelled cobweb,
chirping hastily like munias who come calling,

in the liminal space of everything and nothing,
they haunt the living memory of being,
chirping hastily like munias who come calling,
unlike twilight, which pre-announces its departure,

they haunt the living memory of being,
gatecrashing minute serene filled space,
unlike twilight, which pre-announces its departure,
they hoist on gossamer threads of ghostly imagination,

gatecrashing minute serene filled space,
they hunt forgotten realms of existence,
they hoist on gossamer threads of ghostly imagination,
only to re-ignite and reincarnate,

they hunt forgotten realms of existence,
existing in hidden gaps of “I” and “Me”
only to re-ignite and reincarnate,
in the dark lost empires of tranquility,

existing in hidden gaps of “I” and “Me”
my darkest fears cloister in a bejewelled cobweb,
in the dark lost empires of tranquility,
there is a season and reason for everything.

Poetry Form :- Pantoum

Acknowledgements :- Thank you Reena Saxena for hosting RXC # 327, “Liminal”. Thank you Merril. D. Smith for hosting MTB at dVerse, where we were prompted to write a Pantoum Poem. Also written in response to Day 19 of Glo/ Na Po Wri Mo where our prompt is “What are you haunted by, or what haunts you? Write a poem responding to this question. Then change the word haunt to hunt.” Thank you all for stopping by and reading.