A curious power — finding magic

hiding between the thorn and the rose

 

with wounded words found

in rain-soaked cities and wide-open fields

 

between walls of glass that sparkle

before dawn smudges and distorts clear blue skies

 

the lonely poet wears a cloak meant for the malefactor

he lurks in the shadows waiting to steal beauty from the grotesque

 

restless thoughts gather in insipid pools as he walks

until the delicate framework in his mind becomes more

 

a pause to witness a lone crow squawking

as it harasses the mighty hawk flying too close

 

and in this enduring battle, the poet finds grace

while the crow safeguards her young and vanquishes the enemy

 

his mind turns, spins, contemplates

 

more

 

inspired, he wanders in a preternatural world

existing among the ordinary

 

poetry from pain, a peccadillo

a necessary part of magic

 

 

photo: Pixabay

 

prompts: Tuesday Chatter, MLMM Bonus Wordle, #Zenverse, #FocusedVerse 53, #WyldeVerse