Electric Nature Alone

When in nature, unexpected,

Comes a breeze that moves alone.

The wind picks up and with it hectic,

Ugly drops of wet are blown.

Spirits move toward secret paths,

Whispering darkness starts to envelop

The trees, their roots are moved by wrath.

Leaves spin freely as they swell up.

Spectres appear, their souls eclectic,

Wondering why they’ve been brought forth.

A flash of light, the sky electric,

White and hot, piercing the earth.

What is it that moves the forest to be a host

Of people long gone and now are ghosts?