visitation 1 : evocation
called him up, he came out
from the mist and blowing wind
in the chair so quietly
while the world raged around him
voice inside, no echodrift
short words reassure me
in my sleep
addressing it so intimately
but the walls, and the veils
are ripped apart enough
to see outlines
of invisible truth
never far, always near
tender embrace of molecules
everywhere
turning stories into particles
the light, the shadow
still lingers in the air
a faint scent
for the unaware