Ferment of Ghosts

Stone cool cellar, breathing slow,

Barrels inked with names we know.

Apples of the years we kept,

Pressed to tears the orchard wept.

Wild yeast dancing in the vein,

Sugar learning how to pain.

Every cask a quiet host—

Turning grief to ferment of ghosts.

Seal the lid and let it rise,

Bitter bloom behind our eyes.

Ferment of ghosts—let the sorrow turn,

Let the silence fizz and burn.

Raise the glass to all we lost,

Drink the night and pay the cost.

Ferment of ghosts—from the bruise to bright,

From the rot to living light.

What was heavy learns to flow—

We are more than what we owe.

Copper breath and apple skin,

Echoes rattle tin to tin.

Handprints fading on the oak,

Prayers carved in steam and smoke.

We taste thunder, salt, and clove,

Harvest storms we used to love.

What was ruin, what was frost—

Wakes inside the ferment’s ghost.

Seal the lid and let it rise,

Bitter bloom behind our eyes.

Ferment of ghosts—let the sorrow turn,

Let the silence fizz and burn.

Raise the glass to all we lost,

Drink the night and pay the cost.

Ferment of ghosts—from the bruise to bright,

From the rot to living light.

What was heavy learns to flow—

We are more than what we owe.

If the past is sharp and raw,

Let the barrel dull its jaw.

If the rage still wants to choke,

Turn it into breath and smoke.

Let the patient sugars sing—

Life returns in everything.

Stir—wait—watch it climb,

Breathe—take—one more time.

Ferment of ghosts—pour the aching clear,

Make a spirit out of fear.

Raise the glass, return the flame,

Call the loved ones by their name.

Ferment of ghosts—let the marrow glow,

From the cellar let it go.

What we carry we transmute—

Living wine from fallen fruit.