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Psychopomp

behind you

By Sara WynnPublished 5 years ago • 1 min read
Psychopomp
Photo by Jacob Mejicanos on Unsplash

Without discrimination, taking young and old,

a patient shadow hiding, waiting-- "there."

Expectant raven, he who receives leaves of gold,

directing souls away from trite despair

to He who reigns above, almighty, fair, and just.

From realm to realm, our Guiding Renaissant;

like water turns to vapor, then to snowfell dust,

so too shall those who follow you across

remain themselves: of substance same, transformed anew

and not unlike themselves before their birth

without the worldly shame and heartbreak life accrues;

from whence we came we shall again return.

The room was quiet, yet she said the noise was loud;

around her bed, around her bed, he prowled.

surreal poetry

About the Creator

Sara Wynn

"No one knows where the edge of the knife is,

and no one knows what intelligent life is."

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    Written by Sara Wynn