Welcome to the beauty of the last months of the year, the change of the trees, the chill in the air, the land going fallow (at least in this northern half of the planet).
The first frost can worry and terrify those without shelter or those who need the bright warm sun. The falls calls in winter, a dark and difficult time, less light, less growth, less time with others. Isn’t this especially true this pandemic year?
Usually all of October I post poems and art for Halloween, but this year I failed to post much of anything to celebrate my favorite time. Nothing came to me. I decorated our mantel, but still inspiration stayed away.
I don’t really believe in actual ghosts we can see. I don’ know why ghosts would wander our homes shutting doors and flickering lights. But ghosts do stay with us, coming in through dreams and psychological cracks. Many of us are haunted even if the person haunting us is still very much alive.
All Hallows’ Eve reminds me of who we’ve known, where we’ve journeyed, and what stories have made us. It reminds me to look at the moon and appreciate the breeze and that I’m here at this moment in time. I don’t have control over any of it, but I’m in it and making what I can.
I remember my mom and grandmother every day, but on these days, I acknowledge their passing and what was lost when they left.
Death has been with us a lot this year, and many people must face that new emptiness, and we are far from saying Death is done. Of course, it is never done, but while many of us wait for it to put away its cloak of Covid darkness, others seem determined to court its attention. Do such days want whimsical poetry about witches, ghosts, or other Halloween delights? Hard to say.
Halloween comes on veils of wind with the ring of a bell. / Halloween comes on the voices of ravens with the stories we tell. / Halloween comes on the full harvest moon with shadows in the light. / Halloween comes on the news from the dead with our innermost fright.
Wishing you the best of this All Hallows’ Eve and the magic of the season.
Also, before I go, a poem of mine was published at River Mouth Review. Poetry is lovely to add to your day. Thank you for reading.