Wayne Howard's Current Projects:
"Seasons of the Mind" -- Poetry E-book
"Seasons of the Mind" -- Poetry E-book
| The Ghost Forest (From The Last Wizard) The ghostly forest stands among the clouds Its pallid leafless trunks, The rib-bones of some long dead giant Grope skyward in supplication. Icy mists race through the ashen trees, Fell spirits freeze my living heart While the earth throbs with primeval power And memory of the sun grows dim. The voices of the ghosts shriek warnings, But my journey must continue on. Upon the rocky knoll I plant my staff And speak the ancient incantations. The hairs upon my nape stand erect, And lightning lights the naked trunks, Which glow with eldritch hue. My staff sings its making song. I am filled with the voices of the living Crying out their fear of death. I feel the birth pangs of the universe; I now see the ending of all things. The ghosts depart and silence reigns The staff stands smoking in the mist While I sleep and dream tomorrow’s world, I am needing nothing more. Awake, I stand within the ghostly forest My staff clutched tightly in my hand The long-dead trees stand as silent sentinels I make ready to depart. Copyright 2008 -- Wayne Howard |
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Poetry
Humor
Meditations
Articles
Humor
Meditations
Articles
