Hallows Everyday 17

Upon Each Samhain

I miss you most upon each Samhain,

when the boundary turns to sheer.

I wait until the veil is parted

at the ending of the year.

Sweet spirit, as you walk among us

at the tolling of this eve,

I see your face beyond the sunset

and hear you voice upon the breeze.

In the glowing of the candle,

from the shadow on the wall,

I watch for you in every movement

and hear your footsteps in the hall.

Can you sit and spend the evening

as the portal opens wide?

Ancestral dead, I bid you welcome,

most recent dead, I pray, abide.

When you come, I sense your presence,

I put my hand out in the air.

A moment, then, we stand united,

palm to palm, while waiting there.

I miss you most upon each Samhain,

when the boundary turns to sheer.

We share these hours until the dawning

then bid farewell until next year.

David O. Norris

Blessings nine!