"Truth of a Soulful Whole"
It's in the crisp autumn air, snapping crackles and biting breeze beauty of Halloween. All of the greeting cards show cuteness and hollow sentiments. All of the nights owed decrepit cash for gory zombies, throat-ripping, gnawing the jugulars, and mindless screaming... wailing bloody howls.
So why not trust a better, more romantic voodoo for us to connect with solemn blessings ? We could cherish having kissed the spirited. Tears-sparking lips of loved kin, we kindle lava wax and cider, and a bonfire's kindling of cedar.
See, the whole thing is... a time-tattered, torn and tired Victorian home, is cast as a center force of marketed cheap kicks reeling, our humanity lost... meaningless horror and mauling.
But the very truth in this gorgeous Victorian home ? There's truth of a soulful whole, family members passed, visiting with us there. Through our presence, we gather ourselves around sentient crystals and, while smudging sage brush, these permeate. Gathered touch, lost over uncountable years, regained.
So yes, it's in the crisp autumn air, snapping crackles and biting breeze beauty of Halloween, and glory be to a monumental, but always too brief, joining of here and hereafter in a much loved Victorian home.