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.