The Celtic Viking and Ghost Boy
Are you a vision,
or a memory from the past
a miasma, Jungian shadow,
a child’s let’s pretend,
or my psyche’s imaginary friend?
There’s two of you now,
and me, we three
sorry I honestly forget you’re there
or to acknowledge, love and care
and never take you anywhere.
Today though there was relief
a dark cloud took leave
I felt you, showed up either side
my lost smile and spring returned
with a confused sense of pride.
My heart swelled
arm shook the basket in my hand
by the frozen food, sad and ashamed
I dont know your names,
exactly from where and when you came.
Walking down the ailes
Thai locals shop for the day
Chinese cart dash, stocks piled high
oblivious to the sight of a ghostly teen
and such an imposing staff weilding guy.
He is almost seven feet tall
solemn, a mixed Celtic Viking
between two worlds, ancient
explorer-magician, present, silent type
of Seaking-Druid descent.
The other a boy, a curious child
a spectre and ghostly presence,
deathly, speechless, painfully shy
A homeless astronaut cast adrift,
weightless, still umbilically tied.
Now we are mismatched comrades,
somehow with comparable pasts,
setting out on a bold hero’s journey
a team to kick the shadow enemies butt,
and retrieve the golden crown of worthy.
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