07 apr | Shades of Shalimar

Only Nana could fell
all with one word.

Only Nana could quell
folk with one look.

Only Nana could spell
seven-letter words.

Only Nana could swell
with Canadian Club.

Only Nana could dispel
visits from away.

Only Nana could dwell
on the hill alone.

Only Nana could foretell
the end of her fast.

Only Nana could leave
without a farewell.

. . . . .

Poet: Susan Powers Bourne
Powers: Nana’s maiden name.

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06 apr | Parchment

Parchment

surfaces
erased, effaced:
overwritten, later —
imposed on, earlier;
in other words,
multi-layered records
created, recycled —
new traces of old
appear – relayed
over time.

. . . . .

susan.powers.bourne

04 | Building Beauty

Building Beauty

Just because it’s old,
doesn’t make it beautiful.

Just because it’s beautiful,
doesn’t make it old.

Beauty can be as ageless,
as endless — as us.

Vintage blue-glass bottles,
bluebirds in the grass.

Light-blue notes echoing
in empty structures.

Untold ancient strictures,
built up, torn down.

Everything thrusts peace
at us, as we rebuild.

. . . . .

© Susan Powers Bourne

02 | Mantra Mystery

Mantra Mystery

A hint: Gate is pronounced

like “gah-tay” —

Gate Gate Para Gate Parasam

Gate Bodhi Svaha.

“Going, going, going on beyond —

always becoming.”

A marvelous thought: movement

toward awakening,

an unfolding process of one who

may not have arrived,

who may not be an end, but itself.

Gates with the long ā’s

are also like that: opening us up.

. . . . .

Poet: Susan Powers Bourne
Source: Mantra Mystery
Process: Found poetry plus