Spiritual

strangers become comfortable after a time
and the stoic faces of the old
are alive when they are free to tell their stories
this is what I live for
the stories 

the orbs that roam the mountainside at night
many years after the plane crash that took all aboard 
the lights that flicker same time every year
on a deceased husband's birthday
the sounds of a child's voice calling for her mommy
on a recorder left in a 300 year - old brick house
that has no occupants
and the distinct touch of a spirit
which I have known

I did not seek these gifts
they were given
and I follow with open mind and soul
for I live in the peace and comfort
that this awareness provides
there is more
much more 
beyond this final breath

Beyond This Final Breath