I Pause for Ghosts

Between silence and a whisper,
I find magic in the moments
of snow on rooftops,
fresh under my feet and in
the remnants it leaves
on the strangers I meet.
A ghost among them,
I’m very much alive,
sure of my fortune,
I fly rather than run
along this path of mine.

Near the lake, I pass an
aging couple, gracefully
breathing in the fresh snow.
To my nod they respond
with a kind return.

I pause to contemplate. 

Along my path, I meet
young lovers full of
dreams, a gap between
them, they wait on timing
and love to embrace the
moment that could change
everything forever. 

I pause to remember. 

The lady in her late forties,
looking seventy, for
reasons kept secret,
I see her life behind her as
misery gathers in her mind,
sticking on her face, a
stunning darkness in this
wintery white surrounding.

I pause to mourn. 

I watch a man on his boat,
flying all sails out
between the flakes.
In him I see the adventurer,
inspired by the peace around
him, while still confronting
a past he welcomes on
this lone journey.  

I pause to dream. 

And then as usual and
without warning, the one
who haunts my dreams with
light in her eyes and freshness
in her smile, finds me here,
where she cannot stay
unnoticed in this moment,
a snapshot destined to
forever flood my mind
with promise and hope. 

I pause to regret. 

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