no magic mumbling…
Repeat
Here, in the back of the cave,
it’s not called magic,
nor potion, nor spell,
there is no careful brew…
The ensorcelling fire burns,
but no spell is called up
to right grave wrongs,
no magic mumbling
slips from the witch’s lip.
The crone intent on sharing
ere her lamp goes dim,
the novice, come to learn,
seeks a charm that ends all pain…
The witch sits down
and wipes her eye,
and teaches, again,
that the spell to make
possible what is good
is not magic,
but she names it
with one strong word:
“hope”
December 8, 2020
Inspired by “Spell for Ending Well” by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, posted December 7, 2020, on her website: A Hundred Falling Veils
Excerpt:
“…Any spell
for ending well
knows…
that anyone who would look up
a spell for ending well
already has exactly what they need.”
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My poetry. Copyright © Richard Carl Subber 2023 All rights reserved.
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© 2023, Richard Subber. All rights reserved.