Blog Archives

Anything Is Possible: A Haibun


If I could touch the sound of a dove with my fingertips, I would. But my hopes are dashed; the little songster flees as I draw near. The dove calls again. Surely this time! Stealthily I move forward, but a dry leaf crackles underfoot. Hush now, I say to myself, you’re making too much noise; surely she hears you. But, no, there on a branch of the plum is the dove, and there is her song, pouring from her beak like a silver waterfall. Slowly, ever so slowly, I approach, I reach, I touch the sparkling notes. The dove does not stir, though she knows full well what I’m doing. You doubt my story? In the Age of Donald Trump, anything is possible.

An old Buddhist monk,
who never tells me his name,
visits me in dreams.

 
  

Haibun © 2020 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #248
 
More Writers’ Pantry #2 at Poets and Storytellers United

 

Hush

Anado's Wine Bottle Virgin
Virgin of Guadalupe by artist Anado McLauchlin, La Cieneguita, Guanajuato, México
 


at the backyard shrine
even the crows hold their tongues—
hush of holiness

 
Haiku © 2016 and photo © 2011 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Blue Monday
 
More Twelve Days of Mary at Recuerda Mi Corazon

Crumbs

 photo DSC_0248_zps5my4fcui.jpg
Saguaro cactus, White Tank Mountain Regional Park, Maricopa County, Arizona
 
 


~~ 1 ~~
 
filling my left hand
with seven sticks of incense—
hush of curling smoke
 
~~ 2 ~~
 
how endless crying
leads to an unstable bridge
that no one can cross
 
~~ 3 ~~
 
It is good sometimes
to be the link that’s missing
or an untold tale.
 
~~ 4 ~~
 
Cheese and bread and wine—
we lift them from the hamper,
pigeons eye the crumbs.
 
~~ 5 ~~
 
sipping orange juice
along with their chocolate cake—
the birthday children
 
~~ 6 ~~
 
ending of summer—
even the geese are weary
of halcyon days
 
~~ 7 ~~
 
a jagged old fence
snagging wind and rain and clouds—
I slip through the strands
 
~~ 8 ~~
 
We could live like this—
in the middle of nowhere
with bears for neighbors.
 
~~ 9 ~~
 
old Kansas farmer
rubbing thumb and forefinger
against misfortune
 
~~ 10 ~~
 
some alphabet soup
sipped from my grandmother’s cup—
autumn abundance
 
~~ 11 ~~
 
showing her brother
the proper way to plant seeds
without wasting one
 
~~ 12 ~~
 
ten thousand apples
ripening in the orchard—
wealth before first frost
 

 
Haiku © 2016 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Poetry Pantry #319
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #76

Pains and Pleasures

 photo f6bfd5cc-38ef-4967-814a-47274c1fb2c7_zpsgpstgbsc.jpg
 
Each breath-of-a-poem begins with a line taken from The Surrender Tree by Margarita Engle.
 


~~ 1 ~~
 
shaded by mangos
two old men going for broke
telling more tall tales
 
~~ 2 ~~
 
fragrant white flowers—
a glint of midday sunlight
sharpening their scent
 
~~ 3 ~~
 
hands of the women
lifted in ecstatic praise
to the rising sun
 
~~ 4 ~~
 
deep in the forest
where mossy old trees sway—
a whiff of danger
 
~~ 5 ~~
 
the ears of a horse
disappearing at sundown—
midwinter madness
 
~~ 6 ~~
 
a hat on a stick—
one look and ravenous crows
flee to the next field
 
~~ 7 ~~
 
on hidden beaches
the fierce and oppressive hush
of desolation
 
~~ 8 ~~
 
the darting of bats
bears witness to succulent
insects in the air
 
~~ 9 ~~
 
protected by words
that keep every woe at bay—
two praying women
 
~~ 10 ~~
 
chocolate and coffee—
our guilty Sunday pleasures
an hour before Mass

 
Poems © 2016 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Poetry Pantry
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #43

Filling the Ashtrays

original
 


beautiful ashtrays
filling them with euro coins
to give to the poor
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
filling the ashtrays—
puff after desperate puff
till the last smoke’s gone
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
filling the ashtrays
with incense from the temple—
hush of curling smoke

 
© 2015 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
More Sunday Scribblings 2: “Filling the Ashtrays”
 
More Three Word Wednesday: “Beautiful, Desperate, Hush”