Spell to Renew the Heart’s Magic

Brewer’s prompt today is to use three or more of the following random words in a poem: button, gather, hold, not, sweep, toxic

Gather the strands of the story again
into your fingers and weave a round cloth.
Sweep the corners to find the lost button
to stitch upon it, a button which will draw it all together.
When you are finished, it will hold a stone
in the shape of your bitter heart.

Dip it in the river.
Say: Grandmother River, carry my pain.
Hang it from a tree branch.
Say: Sister Wind, cleanse and purify my heart.
Set in on freshly dug soil.
Say: Mother Earth, cause me to grow and green.
Place it in the ash of a new moon fire.
Say: Flame Daughter, cause me to rise up
on red-gold wings like the phoenix.

Speak to your heart. Tell it:
I will not turn my pain inward
where it will suffocate me.
I will not turn my pain outward
where it will renew itself in bitterness.
I will welcome it to my table,
feed it the medicine of my story,
and send it away healed and transformed.


Gratitude List:
1. How being pushed off center forces me to redefine center, recalibrate, hold fast to my sense of myself, and grow
2. Playing blackjack with high schoolers
3. Break is coming!
4. First trimester grades are done!
5. Tabula rasa
May we walk in Beauty!


“May your choices reflect your hopes, not your fears.”
—Nelson Mandela


For a day, just for one day,
Talk about that which disturbs no one
And bring some peace into your beautiful eyes.
—Hafiz


“Whatever you’re meant to do, do it now. The conditions are always impossible.” —Doris Lessing


“Open your mouth only if what you are going to say is more beautiful than silence.” —proverb


“All religions, all this singing, one song. The differences are just illusion and vanity. The sun’s light looks a little different on this wall than it does on that wall, and a lot different on this other one, but it’s still one light.” —Rumi


The magic of autumn has seized the countryside;
now that the sun isn’t ripening anything
it shines for the sake of the golden age;
for the sake of Eden;
to please the moon for all I know.
—Elizabeth Coatsworth


“. . .fairies’ gold, they say, is like love or knowledge—or a good story. It’s most valuable when it’s shared.” —Heather Forest, The Woman Who Flummoxed the Fairies

Poem a Day: 18

Today’s poem prompts were “train” and “message.” I was wandering through the long grasses of the long A sound in train, and ended up at the Amazingville Station. One day, years ago, when the poetry was so heady and giddy I could hardly keep from floating away, someone wrote on someone else’s poem, “You are sleeping with everyone in Amazingville,” and Mara wrote a poem beginning with that phrase. I have wanted so terribly to travel again to Amazingville, so I figured out today that perhaps you need to take the train.

Someone in one of my groups said he likes this poem, but he doesn’t really understand it, which it exactly how I feel, too. I responded with this, and maybe it makes a little more sense to me now: “I’m not sure I understand it, actually. My seven and seven is the final two lines that turn the haiku to tanka, so the haiku is perhaps a summoning spell, a way to bring me back to Amazingville, too, and I will finish the incantation with my two lines of sevens.”

Here’s the weirdness, and then a video of last year’s Easter Magdalene poem:

Taking the Train to Amazingville
by Beth Weaver-Kreider

When you get off the train at Amazingville Station,
send me a message that you have arrived.

Make it a five seven five, American haiku,
and let the cutting word be one that sets me free.

Then bring me around with the sweet music,
the alluring scent of your season word.

Call me home with haiku and I’ll come to you
on the next train, with my seven and seven.