The Magicians
Words set things in motion. I’ve seen them doing it. Words set up atmospheres, electrical fields, charges. I’ve felt them doing it. Words conjure. I try not to be careless about what I utter, write, sing. I’m careful about what I give voice to.
Toni Cade Bambara
A friend messages with a spell / the wind moving through the trees sounds like the ocean / I am hoisted up and flung into the air / a kamikaze of legs and arms / a child adored and alight / sun-kissed and screaming with giggles / I want to weep / Andreas Weber would say / this is how the air sings / it dances through these leaves / it rubs to pluck and strum / invisible chords / Music is made in this meeting.
Mundane has two definitions / dull and of the earth / Once again, the English language is brought to its bloodied knees / before the majesty of what it encounters / I feel furious and indignant / to be so fluent in technologies that stir to life in conflict / Our chariots ride / roughshod and gallant over tiny things / and enormous wonders / as we marvel at what we could never recreate / and call it dull.
David Abram says / to make sense is to enliven the senses / The undulating longing of the wind / lilts through the open doors / swinging and whistling its baskets of birdsong / A magician is aroused to rustling / a Silver Birch whirling in the kitchen / A moka pot trumpets the fragrance of bitter jewels / spiced crumbs tumble into exotic corners / I am alert and attentive to movement and motion / Nothing keeps still / Poetry pours iridescent and lavender / profuse with praise / humble and reverent / alive with the magic of these wild things.