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No Saddle


gazing at the text
from her lover far away—
a taste of honey
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
stifling afternoon
without the cooling breezes
she was hoping for
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
Sweltering June day—
the old abbot stubs his toe
near the temple gate.
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
nursing home at dusk—
the glint in her eyes dimming
as she sees the end
 
~~ ~~ ~~
 
no saddle, no reins
on the untamed horse called death—
her wild ride forward

 
Haiku © 2018 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #167
 
More Poetry Pantry #408 at Poets United
 

Beginnings and Endings

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~~ 1 ~~
 
A night with no wind—
the novice lights three candles,
dreading the first gust.
 
~~ 2 ~~
 
the sun for a while
hovering over the oaks
then plunging earthward
 
~~ 3 ~~
 
a night with no wind—
the sound of gravel shifting
on the garden path
 
~~ 4 ~~
 
The whore’s rose perfume—
for a while the prodigal
misses his mother.
 
~~ 5 ~~
 
a night with no wind—
grieving the loss of the last
white chrysanthemums
 
~~ 6 ~~
 
for a while at dusk
an unexpected longing
for him she once loved
 
~~ 7 ~~
 
a night with no wind—
hoping to find a willow
for a resting place
 
~~ 8 ~~
 
For a while at dawn
the tavern at the corner
shuts down for cleaning.
 
~~ 9 ~~
 
a night with no wind—
the young monk hoping to learn
something from the stars
 
~~ 10 ~~
 
treasure for a while—
three golden melon blossoms
melting in the sun
 
~~ 11 ~~
 
a night with no wind—
mice rushing through the melons
music in their feet
 
~~ 12 ~~
 
for a while the roar
of the melons in the field
startling the farmer

 
© 2015 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Poetry Pantry #252
 
More Sunday’s Whirligig #7
 
More Carpe Diem: “Basho’s ‘For a While'”
 
More Sunday Scribblings 2: “A Night with No Wind”

How Many Badgers

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How many badgers are wise enough to thrive on city streets?
Can things that hum and swarm in the forest live without tasting blood?
Are there passions storming the heart’s dark corners that no one dares mention?
It is enough, child, to believe in the magic of unicorns.
It is enough, old man, to walk through the desert at night, singing to the stars.
 
 
How will the bat that hangs in the belfry elude the tolling bell?
How will the creature with no legs jump to safety when the owl drops from the sky?
How can Jesus calm the surging sea with words when he has no tongue?
It is enough, child, while I am with you, to keep hunting the elusive unicorn.
It is enough, old man, to sing every night to the stars.

 

© 2014 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Poetry Pantry #210
 
More Sunday Scribblings 2: “Wise”
 
More The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 170