Whispering Spirits

By Reverend Carl Yount

The author takes readers on a journey through a labyrinth of imagery and visions with a collection of epic poems.

Reverend Carl Yount was born in Buffalo, NY and has experienced many walks of life through his travels across the country. Writing has always been his companion, while taking time for studies in philosophy and theol

• Language: English
• Publisher: URLink Print & Media, LLC
• Release date: Dec 9, 2020
• ISBN: 9781647535551

Reverend Carl Yount

Reverend Carl Yount transitioned from a period of earlier darkness to a lighter spirituality as his professional life evolved to work as a certified nursing assistant in nursing home dementia units. He also immersed himself in a continual journey of training on various theologies to appease his growing desire to embrace a life beholding to faith. This is seen in the transition of his writings to a lighter theme in spirituality. Over time, Reverend Carl has established an all faith ministry and balances this time between his passion and work at a pet cemetery and as a chaplain in a number of motorcycle organizations.

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Whispering

Spirits

Reverend Carl Yount

Whispering Spirits

Copyright © 2021 by Reverend Carl Yount. All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any way by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the author except as provided by USA copyright law.

The opinions expressed by the author are not necessarily those of URLink Print and Media.

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Published in the United States of America

Library of Congress Control Number: 9781647535537

ISBN 978-1-64753-553-7 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-64753-554-4 (Hardback)

ISBN 978-1-64753-555-1 (Digital)

03.11.20

CONTENTS

Torment Burning Cold

The Idealist

Silken Black Bird

Look For The Shore

Mariah

My Three Loves

Journey

A Table Away

Concrete And Steel

Why

Night’s Tranquility

In Your Eyes

The Poet’s Pen

Seasons

The Empty Room

A House In Madness

Her Eyes

Wedding Bells

A Man Of Ages Many

How Fragile Is Our Time

Epigram

Pearl Horizon

Scarlet Dove

The Apology

What Child Is This

Song Of Distants

Fingers Dance

The Hunger Of The Tree

Twinkle Of A Star

Can You See Me

Each Time I Turn

The Prisoner

Last Man Standing

Ancient Infant

Why Do I Dare

Tear Drop

TORMENT BURNING COLD

What is the torment burning cold

With the moments that we stole

In the night of dreams and passion bold

The bed sheets together we unfold

Now I sit in chamber blind

Your image my last dream enshrined

In a room cold and silken lined

The past a place I’ll never find

I sit now deaf and listen to the rain

Holding tight to the nightmare’s mane

I wish away your image of joyous pain

And now on my heart a lasting stain

Was it just a fantasy in the night

I now stand torn in the void of your sight

And wander in the dark without your light

To never hold the illusion again, a chilling fright

What is the torment burning cold

With the moments that we stole

In the night of dreams and passion bold

The bed sheets together we unfold

THE IDEALIST

   In a vision once I had

   I crossed the ocean twice too far

   I set on the shore of an ancient sea

   I watched the ships sink, one, two, and three

   I dared to ask of questions, why

   I found myself aloft, as I could fly

   I searched the hills and valleys there

   I almost paid the toll, the final fare

   I walked with death as we talked of life

   I thought of sanity as I took his sister as my wife

   I moved away boulders to look under rocks

   I found the keys to a thousand locks

   I saw cities in the sky and dammed nations on earth

   I witnessed the loss of life in the miracle of birth

   I dined with kings and slept with vagrants

   I dressed in rags I wore with elegence

      So here I stand a day later

      Looking at a journey only destiny could cater

      Now I close my eyes at last

      Now from dreams am I cast

   In a vision once I had

   I heard the children fall

   I took the hands of demons in flight

   I touch the eye of god and saw endless night

SILKEN BLACK BIRD

The raven perched upon the shoulder of a boy who

tries to become a man. A man of strife and power,

but yet humble and silent. Sent by those who used

to lead kings in their rule of empires. Who used

to fly on