Behind a tree,
Or somewhere else,
A white-haired mocking-ghost,
Sang darkly.
A child put on a pair of shades,
And filled his ears with fallen leaves.
A grown up stood to move the tree.
The tree, once green, was somewhere else.
An elder, sitting, sang along,
His chords were slightly out of tune.
I killed a ghost one day!
They all remember,
I talked to it:
It died,
Once it became alive.
(For some, this ending is maybe … not the most clear. I’ve hidden some hints below. It’s my take on it. You can reveal them by selecting with your mouse, the text underneath.)
–I started this,
with just one thought:
what’s the best way to kill a ghost?
I still don’t know…
A ghost is a dead thing.
Once it becomes alive…
once you give it meat,
once you paint it in colors,
and bless it with true words,
…it ceases to be a ghost.
So many people would rise up and shine,
if only they would be seen.
Halloween is when the dead move around us,
but maybe, maybe, it should also be,
when the living become alive!
(photo modified from https://thewannabesaint.com/tag/mockingbird/ )
Halfspoken 