SPELL No. 31: Summon the Ancestors

Strike

a match

smudge

the room

clockwise

sage lifts  

smoke trails.

Draw a circle

invoke

protection.

Light

the black candle

feel

the dark moon’s stillness

sit

before the witch mirror

soften

your gaze

whisper

your incantation

louder

louder still

until

your third eye

blinks and

the broken clock

chimes.

Summon

the ancestors.

Neighbors moan

through

wine-induced sleep.

Cats congregate

at your

door.

Tails tucked,

whimpering dogs

slink

away.

Bones molder

gravestones quake

earth ruptures

mausoleums crack and crumble.

They are coming.

Dismayed

discordant

church bells

clang

wind shrieks.

The old house

shivers

and heaves

doors slam

floorboards creak

shutters bang

unhinged

they clatter to the street

the fanlight shatters

tinkle of glass

falling

scattering

settling.

Silence shimmers.   

Water rises

rushes

washes over

the pentagram you drew.

Seaweed clings

to doorknobs

the china cabinet

is all

but

submerged

the sugar bowl and creamer

bob

and drift

into the hall.

The tarot spread is swept

away.

Groaning branches

push

and

thrust

through  

William Morris

papered walls.

Dirt sifts in

spiders spin

their sticky webs.

Palmetto bugs

scratch and scurry

to their corners.

Rustle of bats

swooping

from room

to room

orbiting

orbiting

the chandelier’s starry prisms

in search of night sky.

They have arrived.

Fear not –-

your

family

delights

in a good entrance.