Some say ghosts are just stories, told by flickering firelight. I think they're like the tickles of wind, reminding us we are not alone.
In dreams, they dance like stars caught in the branches of sleepy trees. I wonder if they tell secrets to the moon when no one is watching.
When the world turns quiet, I listen for their laughter, a bell-like chime that drifts through clouds. Maybe it's just my wish to play hide and seek among the echoes of time.
Do you think they would like to slide down rainbows with us? I believe they would, because the world is a prettier place with friends, even if they are a little see-through.
Floating Dreams