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No part of this poetry should be reproduced in any form without written consent from the author, Joe DiMino who retains all rights. Contact. poet@light-cards.com

"Another Halloween Tale, Or A True Story?" (by Joe DiMino)

I commented to a friend: beautiful ring, Karen; your fascination with mythology and religious symbols may come from a past life if it is something you are not able to explain. Of course, one has to believe in that sort of thing, as I do, to come up with such a connection. But that's me. It is a lovely and mysterious item. Sharing your interest, I also possess some religious trophies collected over the years, finding such ancient icons greatly intriguing. Our house has an extension, a backroom large enough that my wife and I use it for both storage and a Recreation/TV-room (though we watch the idiot box with much less frequency now days). Some time ago, thank goodness I am fine now, but for awhile my back had been bothering me, and for no medical reason I could fathom the couch in the recreation-room was the only place I could lie down, pain free, and rest. But almost immediately upon dozing I started having vivid dreams. It got so, no sooner had I fallen asleep quite predictably a strange, eerily haunting, voice would start talking to me. At first I would be startled awake quickly, frightened, sensing that this was all too real and bizarre-like no dream I had ever experienced before; but then, as I gained in nerve, refusing to feel like a child in the dark, I began to have longer conversations with the entity, less and less fearful and more and more inquisitive as to who owned the voice and why it was talking to me, by then convinced it was a spirit. One night, after tormenting me for weeks (for the topics discussed and voice itself were indeed chilling), I directly commanded the spirit to identify itself--at which time he informed me that he was an Indian medicine man of an ancient tribe. The next morning I spoke to my wife of the incident, at which time she remembered having stashed away in a corner of the room in a draw long forgotten and never opened some authentic items her uncle (an old pioneer that knew the artist Remington) had left her--American Indian items, perhaps 150 to 200 years old, once owned by a medicine man, items that most likely had been used in many a religious ceremony. We removed the items from the room and the dreams stopped.

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