Blog Archives

Afraid of the Dark


She hated the night. She was terrified of night. Gibbering things with nasty little voices taunted her: “You’ll never amount to anything. None of your dreams will ever come true. You are worthless. You might as well die.”
 
Every night the gibbering things whispered their lies. But just because they were lies didn’t mean they could be ignored. Lies are like the fishhook that caught in her palm as a child. Her daddy carved it out with his pocketknife, digging deep into her flesh. The pain was almost more than she could bear, and there was blood everywhere. Blood and pain—like the gibbering lies. No wonder she hated to turn off the light. No wonder she tossed and turned every night. No wonder she fingered her rosary frantically, praying for daylight to come.
 
But one night, in addition to the gibbering voices, she heard, or thought she heard, another voice, almost a whisper. Well, more like a breath. And the Breath seemed to say: You are the daughter of wisdom and light.
 
Wait, she thought to herself, am I not worthless? Am I not a miserable excuse for a human being? Shouldn’t I just die and be done with it?
 
But the Breath persisted: You are the daughter of wisdom and light. You know what is right. In you mercy and goodness dwell.
 
Was this a trick? Was she just imagining things? She must be. She was worthless, and she knew it, and she was afraid of the dark, for the darkness told her that she had nothing to offer the world but her miserable, wretched existence.
 
Then she seemed to hear the Breath again: Sleep, child. Even though you are terrified, I am here, and you are safe.
 
And so she slept. For the first time in years, she slept through the night. And her sleep was good.

 
  

Story © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
The poem on which this story is based can be found here: A Voice in the Night
 
More A Pantry of Prose #3 at Poets United

Song

FullSizeRender (1)
Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, Southern California
  


They tell the story
of how, on distant mountains,
one dove left her song.

  
Haiku and photo © 2017 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More SkyWatch Friday
 
More Haiku My Heart at Recuerda Mi Corazon

Story

Christmas tree star photo Sonoranstar_zpsc8ded7d6.jpg
Christmas tree decorations in a church in Arizona
 


the other story
about a star no one sees
and no one follows

 
Haiku © 2015 and photo © 2014 by Magical Mystical Teacher

Repeating

Church shadows photo Sonoranchshadows_zpsa1d68a82.jpg
Arizona church interior, decorated for Christmas
 


Even the shadows
are repeating a story
begun long ago.

 
Haiku © 2015 and photo © 2014 by Magical Mystical Teacher

Name

 photo SonoranMay20132175a_zps4551a6a9.jpg
Wellton Memorial Cemetery, Wellton, Arizona
 


a name carved in stone
only part of the story—
listening for more

 
Haiku © 2015 and photo © 2013 by Magical Mystical Teacher

Branches

 photo DSC_0680_zpswpwlqtpy.jpg
Palo verde tree, Sonoran Desert, Southern Arizona
 

too long a story
to tell without a respite—
how the branches fell

 
Haiku and photo © 2015 by Magical Mystical Teacher

Journey

 photo DSC_0174_zpsey5mc6nz.jpg
Dawn, Sonoran Desert, Southern Arizona
 


too long a story
to tell without a respite—
the migrant’s journey

 
Haiku and photo © 2015 by Magical Mystical Teacher

Wonder

 photo DSC_0058_zpsun3otsfi.jpg
Pyramid at La Cañada de la Virgen, San Miguel de Allende, Guanajuato, México
 


temple of the sun
ever the sacred story
caught in webs of light
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
Old worship sites still inspire wonder.

 
More Six-Word Saturday
 
More Shadow Shot Sunday 2
 
More Carpe Diem: “Akhenaten”

Clear

 photo bluestoneRoxa_zps5159e96f.jpg
Mrs. Cranston left a stone at Roxaboxen Park, Yuma, Arizona. (Read why people leave stones at Roxaboxen.)
 


The message is clear
without a Rosetta Stone:
neat story, neat place.

 
Text © 2015 and photo © 2014 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
More Carpe Diem: “Rosetta Stone”

Writing

 photo DSC_0063_zpsm7twfoj1.jpg
Japanese Friendship Garden, Phoenix, Arizona
 
 


from a treetop
emptiness dropped down
in a cicada shell


writing a rich new story
in the pond beneath the pine

 
*Opening gambit © by Basho, translated by Jane Reichhold
 
Text and photo © 2015 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
More Shadow Shot Sunday 2
 
More Carpe Diem Tan Renga Challenge: “Basho’s ‘From a Treetop'”