Thursday, September 1, 2011

The Novice

I am a young witch,
new to the arts,
but already skilled in spells and alchemy.
It is waning summer
and time to gather potion plenty.

Staff in hand,
I meander rutted paths
and gather

the feather of a bird
the dust from a coyote track
the blood of an aloe

and return to my cauldron
to mix, measure,
and murmur the wind
until I am called back
by my mother's exasperated voice.

She sees mud pies and mess.
But, in the long shadows,
I am making magic.

14 comments:

R Montalban said...

i hope so :-)

Grant said...

I remember those days well.

hedgewitch said...

We used to mix poison berry toothpaste from some sort of red berries that grew in people's yard's up north and plot how to get them into the Mean Lady's house who always yelled at us. Somehow we never quite got the details down--like how we could replace a tube of toothpaste with a plastic cup of red mush...but it was very satisfying, nonetheless. Hats off to the novices who want to learn the mysteries.

Fireblossom said...

Ha! I can't imagine where you got the inspiration for this. *rolleyes*

Daydreamertoo said...

LOL I remember those days all too well. Lovely!

Brendan said...

Me and a buddy girlyboy when I was about 8 or so would mix Confectioners 10X powder (sounded mad science-y) with a little water and green food coloring and then proceeded to spoon that sweet horror into our mouths. Thus the fat, tooth-compromised poet-newt was borne through childhood. You go girl. - Brendan

Heaven said...

Like the memories you stirred here... yes, I did those too ~

Happy day ~

happygirl said...

Love the memories it conjures up.

ayala said...

magic indeed!

Tara R. said...

So that's what I was doing as a kid, mixing potions.

Evelyn said...

Brilliant.
I feel this!!!

brenda w said...

Oooo ooo I love this! I would love to share it with my middle school students, if I may. If so, I'll attribute it to Mama Zen, or ?

My e-mail is birdbren@live.com

Thanks Great piece!!

unsungpoet said...

This is adorable...good stuff!

Poetry Pastiche said...

One never really knows what her kids are cooking up. :)

"Murmur the wind" is a smooth line. And your closing stanza: pow.