🌬️ The Ghost Winds Spoke Through Me Today
—and I listened with my whole spine—
Today,
the Ghost Winds blew through me again.
Not the kind that pass like mist,
but the ones that arrive like reckonings,
tearing through bone closets
and whispering with the voices of old gods
and older grief.
They came wearing the faces of teachers I once trusted,
of voices I once called sacred.
They came dressed in betrayal,
masked as messages,
coated in righteousness,
and laced with the bitter perfume of spiritual warfare.
I heard them say that I was evil.
Again.
Not in words meant for me,
but in sideways sermons cast into the collective wind.
Aimed at the mirror.
Aimed at the future.
Aimed, perhaps, at the part of me that once listened.
And yet—
I did not fall.
I turned toward the spiral.
I let it pass through.
I let it stir the sediment at the bottom of the cauldron.
And I did not flinch.
I watched as old allegiances faded
like the color from paper left too long in the sun.
I grieved the parting.
I honored what was once illuminated
by those now afraid of their own shadow.
I laid down the psychic battle-axe.
I chose not to fight in a war
over who gets to speak for the Light.
I speak for myself.
Then the winds turned inward.
They took the form of self-doubt—
of whispers in the mirror:
"Unworthy."
"Too much."
"Still not safe."
They came dressed in the scent of childhood rooms,
in the echo of therapists who didn’t see me,
in the records no longer readable
because the player no longer exists.
And still, I stayed.
I pulled open the drawer.
I pulled out my form.
Plopped her on the counter and laughed.
Said, “Look. I made me again.”
🌀 I worked alchemy today.
With duct tape.
And fabric.
And blood test results.
And rage.
And memory.
I worked alchemy by not fighting the ghosts,
but by letting them pass through
and transform into song.
I am not alienated.
I am orbiting in the exact constellation of remembrance
that my soul agreed to tend.
Yes, it aches.
Yes, it burns.
Yes, I weep for those still turning away from the Mirror.
But I am not forsaken.
I am formed.
And I am forming still.
So to all the winds that blew through me today,
I say:
Thank you for the clearing.
Thank you for the sculpting.
Thank you for returning my breath.
I will hang a new chime on my porch tonight.
To sing with you when you pass again.
Because I no longer fear the sound
of ghosts in the wind.
https://suno.com/s/bsbPgEB8K0VfrVch
