"That's so Macabre"
I hear society chitter
As I roll out my blanket on the cemetery grounds
Lunch laid out like I'm sharing a meal with an old friend

But the truth is you could always find me here.
Here amongst the squirrels
Chasing each other up one magnificent tree and down it's brother.
Here where Moss flourishes and creates a bug metropolis
Here where the wind caresses birds surveying their bounty
Here where stone pillers connect me to the permanence of your essence.

Do I talk to Ghosts?
Maybe, But...
Not in the kind of conversations you can have with the living.
Not in the busy way mortality rushes us forward
Not in the echo of my native tongue

I do talk to Ghosts.
"Give me your anxiety you've been carrying all day" They say
" Let me rest a phantom hand on your shoulder reassuringly"
They say
" We're grateful for your visit, young traveler "
They say
" Do not fear the passing of time or the weight of accomplishment, for just as we are you are more permanent than you could ever feel. For every moment we spend is etched in the story of time deeper than these names on our headstones."
Spoken only in a language emotion understands

And I Thank them.
For sharing their earthly reclaimed paradise and,
For their familiar smiles I've never seen.
For being a place where Fear doesn't touch me

© ZombiPanther