The Biding Spirits - by Marie Tryhorn

A fragment of a melody
A scent-inspired memory
Ephemeral, undefined
Intangible... imagined?

A whisper, a footstep, a fleeting glance
A breath, an echo where shadows dance
In sunlight, by moonlight, in empty space
Not lost forever, just misplaced

Those gone too early, paradoxically 'late'
Must patiently for their loved ones wait
Announcing themselves with cues and taps
Clock hands chase; the seasons elapse

'Til shades that lingered beyond their end
Rejoin, rejoice and whole transcend
Mist rises from warmed morning frost
Up to the heavens; souls newly crossed