A Clearing

Like bedbugs
Some things are just too hard
   to get rid of
      effectively
That is to say
They embed themselves
In your spirit
And require a clearing

A clearing of the mind
To rid plaguing thoughts
That invade like guerrilla soldiers
Taking over - destroying,
   making meals and sport of
   the healthy ones
    as they wage war within the host
    who unwittingly invited them in
   
A clearing of the body
To remove residual dross
Left after love's fire
Has burned out
And the coals are white
        with cold


A clearing of the heart
To release the grip
Of memories now tainted
And promises unkept

And so we burn the sage
We call on ancestors
We clear the space
Letting the healing smoke
   carry off the ghosts
   who haunt the night
    and stalk the day
   and breed and bite
   like bedbugs

ReverendSister's Ink (c) 2013