Spellcasting

Bewitched pigs
flaming leaves
bent, twisted twigs,
a wind which weaves,
mourns, moans of melody
haunts with its poetry
hand-in-hand you-and-me
walking a gold-coin trimmed alley
through the cold veil of autumn.

All this heat and symmetry 
remembered, how the
breath peals, wreathed in mist
encircling this
sacred geometry.

Today is heavy:
Rain falls and you aren’t here
I call up the crystal screen
stare hard into and
through the ubiquitous ether,
hover a finger
conjure you hither.

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Sharing with earthweal’s Open Link Weekend #141.

60 thoughts on “Spellcasting

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    1. Thank you, SoundEagle! This could well be the case – I am afraid my knowledge of plants is rather basic 😳 I liked the colours 😊

      1. Thank you kindly 🙏 I tried to identify it with my iNaturalist app, but to no avail! I am sure someone out there will know what it is…

      2. Dear Ingrid,

        The fourth line of your poem “a wind which weaves,” reminds me of my once naming a rhizomatous begonia (bred by one of the members of our society) as “Dream Weave”.

        Yours sincerely,
        SoundEagle

  1. The first stanza casts a powerful spell into which yearning finds its full magnitude. Everything that follows is so hugely arched by it.

  2. Ingrid,
    I like the theme of connects in your poem. Connection to nature and connect to another human. Both are so deeply needed. These are the lines that most spoke to me.
    Wishing you a beautiful day.
    “All this heat and symmetry
    remembered, how the
    breath peals, wreathed in mist
    encircling this
    sacred geometry.”

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