when pain enters the room

and noise  – like thick smoke,

climbs into the bed

with orders to distract and torment

the truth is, it’s impossible to pray;

when voices rudely shout

 setting off alarms somewhere behind the eyes

scaring the familiar silence away

you risk everything, even a tumble out the window

brimming, swimming with all your might

you try to listen

but all you hear is the brass band in your head,

 there is a great pressure where once there was equilibrium

 you are lost in the cacophony

    choking on your own words,

until a buttery sulphur, a-fluttering,

happens by your window

and wraps you in its prayer.


© 2013 Wabi Sabi 

For Sunday Whirl #116



old monk sips

white willow bark tea

the setting moon



old monk joins

 willows singing a praise song

 the rising Son


  I don’t usually explain my poems but today I am feeling the need to do just that.  White willow bark tea was used for centuries to relieve pain.  It contains the substance salicin, from which aspirin was originally derived.

   These two poems are linked in my mind because, in the first verse,  my ‘monk’ is  facing west, in pain, probably  sad.  In the second verse, he turns and gains a new perspective, of the sun rising.  And he joins the  willows in praising the (risen) Son, the One who does not always take away our pain, but presumably, offers us another kind of healing.

This is where the prompt ‘willow’ led me today as I prepare to celebrate Easter.  My wish for all is that you experience whatever peace and healing you need and desire, whether you are celebrating Easter or Passover, or simply the arrival of spring (or autumn)


©WabiSabi 2013

For Carpe Diem ‘willow’