Poem: Wizarding Ways


The world sleeps while the night kind creep
Through crack and crevice over hill and hole
All things slithery and shunned by day
writhe and wriggle in the dead of nights cold

Creatures great and small delight in the dance of darkness
No judgment falls for all must survive and thrive. That is life’s law.
So kiss the moment deep and savor nocturnal glories
For one day our revels will end and what then?

From the black heavens a silver sickle slices the bare earth to cut away its precious colors and leave behind tattered shreds of gray.
While dreamers roam ethereal realms in slumbering jaunts
We who are ambassadors of the unlighted realms gather to
Nature’s tasks under a moon that spies us with squinted eye.

What is this? Something unworldly powerful draws near.
A tall robed figure is sudden born from misty graveyard gloom
Before him, Nature herself kneels with bowed head and silence
Beneath a dark cloak, the wizard’s power cannot be contained

From within the darkness, he calls forth the light
From behind shuttered eyelids, he sees more clearly still
He carries the hermits flame within, unseen to mortal sight
Over past, present, and future he presides in the eternal now.

In a sheltered grove, by ancient oaks hidden
The wizard finds his magic table, rough-hewn and well worn
Beset with the tools of his Craft, time and tradition seasoned
A midnight dew transforms moon rays into diamond showers

All powers are gathered and the wizard bends them to his will
At the ready a wisened old cauldron, crowned with ashes and rust
Frankincense and myrrh smolder over coals glowing angry red
Candles, silver, and gold stand tall, dagger and chalice all in place

Fragrant smokey tendrils like overlong fingers caress this space
The time has come. The hour is right. Both stars and moon agree.
The wizard turns within to the source of all that is, was and will be
Under this hooded garb, with eyes half open he spies invisible things

Arms rise as if to orchestrate the powers that be. Silently he calls the watchtowers, guardians of east, west, north and south
Thrice the circle he walks and raise the cone of power he will.
The gathering is called and the guests have all arrived.

This working proceeds but for how long who can say?
A healing goes forth, or maybe some help to those in dire need.
The wizards works are many and wondrous indeed!
In secret he sends powers of strength, hope, and good cheer

For many good works are wrought in places dark and deep
Seeds come alive and spring forth from the darkest soil
The body repairs rests and revives itself in the dead of night
And was it not from the darkness that God said: “Let there be light?”

His work now done the wizard closes shop for the night
He bids one and all a cheery “hail and farewell.”
At his silent command, the tall man returns all to Nature’s cradle
Soon the dawn breaks and he must join the rest to play a mundane role

~ by Qumran Taj

“Wizarding Ways” by Qumran Taj was included in “Bards Annual 2017,” a poetry anthology published by the Bards Initiative, Long Island, New York.

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