The Journey
Upon death the Spirit was born
Not heralding a crown or extravagantly adorned
The Spirit was free, and had a right to be
Free to watch the ones who lived near the land or across the sea
The little one the Spirt watched over
Had the name and attitude of sweet Clover
The mother held the little one tight
Then kissed the little one good night
Weeks went on as the Spirit saw
And the child found they ought to gnaw
The Spirit was entranced by the child
And when the child saw the Spirit it smiled
At the age of four the child became sick
The Spirit came to the child with a candlestick
And hovered above the hospital bed
The child’s face a shade of red
The Spirit was debating what to do
To save a life or say adieu
The Spirit hovered at the bedside
And thought the sickness unjustified
The Spirit sat and waited
The more time, the more the Spirit felt agitated
There was a noise from the machine
Then began the scene
Memories of the past flowed through the Spirit
The noise was begging to fear it
The Spirit knew what to do
To make the child anew
The Spirit lowered down to the body
No longer wanting to be disembodied
The child’s eyes opened right then
The Spirit began to live again