Mystic

This poem was written in response to the Rattle® Poetry Ekphrastic Challenge for June 2025 and was ultimately not selected. You can find more information here.

https://www.rattle.com/ekphrastic/

Mystic

Pendulum swings

As tea leaves brew

What do you…

See?

In the dregs

That are left

In the cards bereft

Of meaning to me

-

Crystal orbs

Inside swirls

Smoke as it curls

Extinguished candlelight

Lamp lit

To shadows cast

Books of spells long past

Clairvoyance of the sight

-

Her old withered hands

Their young ones take

Tracing lines she makes

Promises held there

She knows that I

Hold a gypsy’s heart

But nothing for the art

Of prophetic flair

-

So with cymbals in my fingers

I dance for the men

While my grandmother promises them

Their futures be foretold

For a few silver coins

Their destiny discussed

And given unto us

A fortune of their foolish gold

Submitted under MRB