mystery

DARK RETURN

 

You came into my life

Last year

April to May

Then you were gone

After Mother’s Day

Now like an annual

Birthday gift

You appeared

Miraculously

Dark dove

Flying out of

A tall top hat

Landing on my

Salient breasts

Gently pecking at my

Lonely lips

Spreading your feathers

Chanting your spell

While my eyes seek

The magic wand

To combine you

With the shadowy man

But the month flies

And you follow

Again

On Mother’s Day

Gone

Flown away

You never stay

And I wonder

Are you a resurrection deity

Ruling the kingdom of my heart

For one short month

Go away

Do not stay

Above all, do not return

My fiery body

Can no longer withstand

The burning mystery of you…

 

© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Dove & Magician pinterest non-attributed

ARCANA

 

Never use these words, says Gran

Only in dire emergency

She says in the Romani chib:

“Open the door to Arcana”

In my dazed state

The word eludes me

English tangles with

Two family dialects

Kalderash and Sinte

So I come up with Piro Hudar Arcane

Will have to do

 

I walk to the edge of the fog

Gran said, Doesn’t matter what country or town

The fog is yours

Three times turn

What’s your favorite number?

Four

Shtar

Chant shtar times for protection

Her voice fades

 

Early, early in morning

Galbi—gold—in ears and wrists

Step over the vaporous border

Turning, holding

Bal, mutra, shungar, rat

Lock of my still long silver crown

Secret fluids contained inside

Blood of my ancestors

All long ago died

 

Am I wasting this one chance

Do I really need help

Gran’s voice again

Call help, look up

And listen

See who comes

Here is a coin

Keep it forever

Bring it into the fire

Of the ending of one

Beginning of the next

 

When do I need help

Who do I call

You will know, said Gran

No, so overwhelmed

Do I use for love or money?

Do I use for health or happiness?

You will know

 

This misty morning

I think I know

I think I need to not save it

But the doubt

Stuff Gran never explained

Me wondering if half of it

Was made-up shit

To scare, impress

An autistic granddaughter

Whose only power

Was make believe

 

Falling back on my

Four familiar friends

Phu, Paj, Haburo, Rat

Earth, Water, Air, Fire

How can it be

Do I truly see

Or is it senility

Through the haze appears

A crow-faced man

Holding a stringed instrument

Courier and a harp

Anagrammed

Open the door to arcana

 

You summoned me

Said he

My honesty wins

I don’t know why I’m here

I don’t know what to do

I do

Let me do the rest

I know

I know all

 

Misty morning wrapping me

Like the finest silken shawl

I take a deep breath

Close my eyes

See images unknown

To modern tech screens

Hear music unheard

On hides, ivory or fine animal strings

Smell powerful spices

Swirling around my face

Taste prehistoric water

In a state of unbelievable grace

Feeling, feeling

What’s been missing

What has hidden from me

My chaotic decades

Now moving out of the mist

 

How important was it all?

Asks he

Do you see?

 

Why did I wait so long to know

How different life could go

 

Only you have the power of you…

 

© 2017 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Richmond Park Photos