Blog Archives

Praise the Lord: A Haibun


This is my morning ritual, taught to me by the elders—women I met on holy ground. Turning to the east, I place a poem on my tongue, as though it were a communion wafer. Like the wafer melting in a faithful person’s mouth, I know the poem on my tongue will die if I do not sing it aloud, whether anybody hears it or not. So I sing: “Let everything that has breath praise the Lord.” Five times I sing the ancient words. And after the fifth time I laugh, for things all round me have joined the song: chickadees and caterpillars; butterflies and blacksnakes; mosquitos, mergansers, and marigolds. Everything with breath is praising the Lord. And the song is glorious.


Unexpected rain—
the old stone Buddha’s broad lap
now holds an ocean.

 

Haibun © 2020 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More The Whirligig #268
 
More Writers’ Pantry #22 at Poets and Storytellers United

 

In a Creative Fashion


In a creative fashion I was cutting film with knives
By the road to a location that was littered with beehives.
’Twas a scene from the Inferno (what I’m telling you is true),
With a backdrop that was bursting into flame—or was that you?
Bystanders taking pictures to upload to Instagram
Watched in admiration as the river reached the dam
And pulverized the concrete to a billion little bits,
And then continued onward with neither starts nor fits.
It’s time to end this story, it’s getting much too long,
And turning into something besides a simple song.
You’ve read this far with pleasure (at least I hope that’s true),
But now I’ll take my leisure and say goodbye to you!

 
  
Poem © 2019 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #226
 
More Poetry Pantry #489 at Poets United

A woman wrapped in water

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Reflections in the duck pond, Yuma Conservation Garden, Yuma, Arizona
 
 

A woman wrapped in water
will try to surprise you
summer afternoons
as you are cultivating bean rows
in your long-neglected garden.
She will come,
bearing a blade in her hand,
from the place across the road,
where ice melted months ago.
Gulp at her appearing, if you must,
but do not let her speak.
Cut her off,
or with subtle words
and artifice and craft
she will begin turning you
into a pond or puddle, and laugh
when the deed is accomplished.

 

Poem and photo © 2017 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
   
More Sunday’s Whirligig #125
   
More Poetry Pantry #367 at Poets United

A Way Out

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Debris floats in a backyard fountain.

 

Trying to breathe in this place,
close to the source of my grief,
while coins thrown in the wishing well
are glimmering and turning—
such madness!
I feel my right foot slip, and then my left,
something tightens in my chest.
Be still, my heart!
You will find a way out!

 

Poem and photo © 2017 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Macro Monday 2
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #94
   
More Poetry Pantry #336 at Poets United