Blog Archives

Twice I Thought I Saw a Flame


Twice I thought I saw a flame
When the shapeless angel came.
Pure and bright she blazed near me;
In her hand she held a key.
 
“This unlocks your heart’s desire,
Be it water, earth, or fire.
You must choose what works for you,
Then will I your bidding do.”
 
Long I stood in awe and stared,
While her visage blazed and flared.
How I trembled, how I ached!
My flesh quivered and I quaked!
 
Then I spoke with fearful voice:
“This I ask, this is my choice:
Like you let me be a flame
Ever wilding, never tame.”
 
“Done!” she cried. “That I’ll allow!
I’ll set you ablaze right now!
Wear this holy fire in grace!
Every mortal, hide your face!”
 
Many years have passed since then,
Years beyond all mortal ken;
Still I flare and still I blaze,
And I will for endless days.

 
  
Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher

Ask the Bucket


Ask the bucket what it knows;
Ask the water where it flows.
Call the fish forth from the stream;
Call the widow from her dream.
 
Tap the teapot, swirl the tea;
Tap the night dreams, flowing free.
Wash the dishes, light the lamp;
Wash your face, but leave it damp.
 
Climb the stairs up to the roof,
Climb, because you need no proof
That your life’s about to end—
Ah, I wish you well, my friend!

 
Poem © 2018 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #180
 
More Poetry Pantry #421 at Poets United

Departures

 photo 9bf1cc4d-85b3-4740-9739-8865592a5b3e_zpsvgo1ygue.jpg
 
Each breath-of-a-poem begins with a phrase purloined from A Year in the World: Journeys of a Passionate Traveller by Frances Mayes.
 


~~ 1 ~~
 
a smooth departure—
bathed in early morning light
she lifts her suitcase
 
~~ 2 ~~
 
Holding a suitcase
packed with troubles and sorrows
she limps down the street.
 
~~ 3 ~~
 
shops lining the street—
she stops to ask one seller
the price of his plums
 
~~ 4 ~~
 
in a secret house
made of stones from the river
little nests of mice
 
~~ 5 ~~
 
searching for a house
where fiery beings shimmer
in the crevices
 
~~ 6 ~~
 
Near the kitchen door
a spray of yellow roses
brightens the cook’s day.
 
~~ 7 ~~
 
into the same pot
tossing seeds and stars and stones—
old kitchen magic
 
~~ 8 ~~
 
a tiny corner table
the merest squirt of mustard
to spice up her meal
 
~~ 9 ~~
 
Light rakes the water
as old men reeling in fish
laugh at their good luck.
 
~~ 10 ~~
 
as a dark presence
ready to strike passersby—
the coiled garden hose
 
~~ 11 ~~
 
In their narrow cells
the monks begin each morning
with prayers learned by heart.

 
Haiku © 2016 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Poetry Pantry #291
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #48