---

The reflection of a ghostly face

displayed on the window

like a portrait framed by the ornate trim-

a lone painting in an empty exhibition

The face remaining clear

even as viewed through lachrymose eyes.

A soul returned

trailed by translucent orchid petals.

Clad in white was the visitor

who spared a glance in passing.

Ethereal and radiant-

a beauty seldom witnessed

and with its glance

all burdens of grief absolve

bleak earthly sorrows now rendered

a relic of a long abandoned past.

The inquisitive lay baffled and bemused

amidst a mire of revalations

-for what now could they do but remain silent?

the spectre descends

Ever graceful in its motions

As reality and the abstract make contact

Euphoria clashes with despair

Then suddenly the being's cloak opens swiftly

Exposing a spiraling infinite chasm

Wherein endless probabilities reveal themselves

To unwitting observers of a soul's return

The spectre ascends

imparting wisdom to all before it

Those who look outward are those who dream

while those who look inward awaken

A harbinger of purpose

As the soul returns, so it departs.