Supernatural

Stopped in the hallway,
felt Your Ghost brush against my feet and graze
my shoulderblade,
smiling as You pass by, passing by.

I am in the hallway,
always
passing by, a life of passing by.
And this isn’t normal,
sensing supernatural,
listening for Your voice.

I rest my forehead ‘gainst the cold smooth wall;
squeeze eyes shut and sigh.
So much warm spirit strangeness welling up
from within, though
this isn’t normal,
this isn’t normal at all,
not at all.

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