Talismans are private treasures

Not for envious eyes

Worn secretly or caressed in a pocket

The seeker’s special prize.

Twisted or carved from metal

Bought or given or found

Whether from a store or the Earth

A feather or rock from the ground.

Why do some of us need an artifact?

A visual or tactile token?

It is unexplainable

An urge better left unspoken.

Birds are part of my decades

Chirping like an alarm bell

I wish I could hold them closely

But effigies seem to work well.

I have a tin of talismans

I touch one when uncertain

Not one has ever failed me

After raising an unfathomable curtain.

© 2014 ViataMaja, Poetic Alchemy


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