The Spirit Poem by Marilyn Shepperson

The Spirit

Rating: 5.0


Where I was I do not know
But I saw him standing there
Still time did ebb and flow
Yet time had no meaning there
It stil has none; that space in time
Could have been yesterday or years ago
But he had his arms around another girl
That was not me; I knew her not
He kissed her lips, so unaware
Of my silent, stunned intrusion
If I could have wept, tears would have flowed
I should not have blamed him and yet,
I could not help the pang of jealousy
That hit my beatless heart as a goad
And so, goaded on, I followed them
From dawn to dusk, until dawn again
He grasped at this love, as a man
might grasp a straw and in this love, he drowned his sorrow
And when at last the sun rose high
He left outside her door and turned away
I cried in vain, I had no way to let him know
That I was standing there
Still drawn as like a magnet, I followed him home
He lay in bed stirring restlessly
He called out my name. He cried for me
As I did cry for him and did what little I could
I stroked his brow until he sighed and slept
Then I left him with a lingering kiss
For I can call him mine no more
And so I left him to his earthly love

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Pene Burkey 25 August 2006

Spiritual sentiment...stages of grief met...denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance...a ghost story with possible realities.~PB

1 0 Reply
Vision Ghost 03 August 2006

I get the impression that your the spirit, come back after death and unsure of where and when u are. Though you see this icon of love with someone else and absolutely unable to act upon it. The theory of how ghosts cannot depict how much time has passed after their deaths, well documented here. As though your the spirit between the plains of the living and the ghost world, a sort of heart breaking limbo. Beautifully morbid and yet fascinatingly theoretical.

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Lesa K 02 August 2006

A beautiful story enfolds in this splendid piece... heartbreaking... but love lives on.

1 0 Reply
Sourav Rc 01 August 2006

I like the concept of this poem. A love poem with the difference.

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