Blog Archives

Airplane

Conner.plane
My grandson’s battered airplane no longer flies.

 

My 9-year-old grandson came home from school and said to his mother:
 
“I got this airplane from the treasure box today. It’s the first time all year that I had enough tickets to get anything. I spent some on lunch with a friend. It’s the first time I got to do that too. So I spent all I had left on this neat airplane that did loops.
 
“Then at dismissal, a 5th grader grabbed it from me and pretended like he was going to fly it, but he scraped it against the wall and bent the wings, so it doesn’t work anymore. He was a Purple Folder kid, so I know he has anger issues.
 
“Maybe I can earn some more tickets….”

 


A grounded blackbird
looks longingly at the sky—
three clouds bear witness.

 
Haibun © 2018 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
More Haiku My Heart at Recuerda Mi Corazon

Searching

Photobucket
Dried and battered wildflowers, Northern Arizona

 
As I shuffle through the arroyo, I keep dropping to my knees. An onlooker might mistake me for a pilgrim making my way to Lourdes. But the healing I seek cannot be found at some distant holy shrine. It is here in the dust at my feet: cedar twigs snapped off by storms; summer’s leftover flowers; small stones trying in vain to fatten themselves on wisps of winter sun.
 
I aim my camera at a clump of wasted wildflowers, remembering words from a letter written long ago: “God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are…” (1 Corinthians 1:28, RSV).
 
Low and despised is nature’s detritus in the arroyo, but it heals my battered spirit as I kneel in awe and wonder before it.

 


I kneel in the dust,
searching for underground streams—
three crows bear witness.

 
Revised haibun © 2016 and photo © 2012 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
More Poetry Pantry #324 at Poets United

Witness

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Ripe fruit on a backyard orange tree, Southern California
 


a silent witness
to the earth’s fertility—
one unblemished fruit

 
Haiku and photo © 2016 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
More Macro Monday 2
 
More Midweek Motif at Poets United: “Witness”

Pains and Pleasures

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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

Witness

Photobucket
Wasted wildflowers, northern Arizona

 
As I shuffle through the arroyo, I keep dropping to my knees. An onlooker might mistake me for a pilgrim making my way to Lourdes. But the healing I seek cannot be found at some distant holy shrine. It is here in the dust at my feet: cedar twigs snapped off by storms; summer’s leftover flowers; small stones trying in vain to fatten themselves on wisps of winter sun.
 
I aim my camera at a clump of wasted wildflowers, remembering words from a letter written long ago: “God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are…” (1 Corinthians 1:28, RSV).
 
Low and despised is winter’s detritus in the arroyo, but it heals my battered spirit as I kneel in awe and wonder before it.

 

Kneeling in the dust,
I search for underground streams—
three crows bear witness.

 
Text and photo © 2014 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
More Carpe Diem: “Ghost Writer, Hamish Managua Gunn”

Castaway

 photo Lostglove_zps355b360b.jpg
Abandoned glove, Sonoran Desert, Southern Arizona
 
echoes of the past
resound into the present
a dream of the sea*


castaway glove bears witness
to sand sailor’s voyages

*Opening gambit by William Rhosyr of Off the Tippet
 
Final two lines and photo © 2013 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
More Carpe Diem Tan Renga: “Echoes of the Past”