I dreamt of seeking.
Finding myself in New Orleans again.
Searching through a magnificent home on the Esplanade.
One I’d known from before.
Delight upon delight I witnessed.
Joy and happiness, down every passageway, and corridor.
Keep looking, a voice told me.
“The search doesn’t end until you find your demon.”
I felt this to be true.
Darkness, devoid of gloom, fell on me.
Then, there, I found her, in the hall.
All black, face to frock, waiting, patiently.
Hovering phantom, swathed in gauze, floating in her own breeze.
Strangely, neither was I afraid of her, nor she of me.
We faced each other in an awestruck, silent, reverie.
S. Conde
Hauntingly beautiful. A pleasure as always.
Thanks Jenn. oxox About to upload some photos of the underwater town that’s forever lodged in both our hearts.
I say: Beautiful. thank you. Daemon or demon … so necessary to face the demon, greet it, integrate it.
Am hitting share buttons .. rather gently pressing the,
Thank you Susan, your comments are always appreciated and insightful. 🙂