The Sweet Whisper Of Your Name Poem by Romella Kitchens

If I find very few settled spirits in life then their howls witness to my living.
Look at the ghosts now of the past and see them when they were flesh.
They come to the stage of life like Japanese actors in the theater of "No."
Each spirit while in the flesh has certain acts to perform, tasks to do
and complete but, do we always know what those actions are?
Or, must we find them as we go along?
The lit stage.
Yet, the audience sits in the dark.
At first much family attends with family. Then, one by one family takes the stage.
Their act begins.
Their music.
Soon, your arms have no confidence to nestle close to as the production continues.
Still, as you walk home with fewer others, you look up at the sky and think you see those you long for.
Or, you feel their familiar smile upon your face, their arm brushing against yours as if they are still there walking beside you, reciting a poem about a wise deer finding and drinking water, or a song about a man who adores his lover and knows
they can only be together for a while.
Some feel there is only a footbridge, or a boat ride from here to there.
Some feel we are protected in that traveling and joyful in our arrival.
Some are certain we knowledgeably return through the tenderness of God.
Leave their sandals by the door to welcome them home.
Or, go to God and to them when it is time and do it without fear.