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Wine into Water
Water heals her wound
the evidence comes
as a scar blossoms in her flesh
like smoke rising
from burning leaves
it has been a long struggle
sometimes she dreams
of lying in her casket
when this nightmare is over
but for now her thoughts are clearing
maybe Jesus is turning her wine
into water
More Sunday’s Whirligig #243
More Pantry of Poetry and Prose #7 at Poets United
The Probability
the probability
that she will be sleeping
when he comes
to bring her coffee
bleached white with powder
instead of cream
is great
he sees her lying there
in an impossible heap
of bones
her skin
stretched tight over her skull
and he wonders
if even as she sleeps
she can hear the birds singing
just outside the window
or the sound the bricks make
as they shift uneasily
in their bed of mortar
causing a startled raven
to slam against the house
A Poet Is Born

The first line of each breath-of-a-poem is taken from The Poet Slave of Cuba: A Biography of Juan Francisco Manzano by Margarita Engle.
~~ 1 ~~
In some hut of mud
with a floor of dry, tamped dung,
a poet is born.
~~ 2 ~~
inventing verses
that rise and fall with seasons—
the farming poet
~~ 3 ~~
on flimsy paper
writing words that reach thousands
with pathos and light
~~ 4 ~~
A fragrance of words
flows from the child poet’s mouth—
honey on his tongue.
~~ 5 ~~
the whispered daydreams
of corn pushing toward the sun
during tassel time
~~ 6 ~~
a woman running
from the seed about to split
into lightning songs
~~ 7 ~~
The fragrant garden—
she comes each day at twilight
to sip with the bees.
~~ 8 ~~
No one is looking
as she enters the courtyard
to steal a mango.
~~ 9 ~~
after the harvest
every vine stripped of its fruit—
season of waiting
~~ 10 ~~
Count the songs growing
in the tunnel of the mole—
ten thousand or more.
~~ 11 ~~
Even a free bird
cannot sprout another wing
when one is broken.
Poems © 2015 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More Poetry Pantry #266
More Sunday’s Whirligig #21