Thursday, January 25, 2024

Thursday Poem - Instructions in Magick


You don’t need candles,
only the small slim flame in yourself,
the unrevealed passion
that drives you to rise on winter mornings
remembering summer nights.

You don’t need incense,
only the lingering fragrance
of the life that has gone before,
stew cooking on an open fire,
the good stars, the clean breeze,
the warmth of animals breathing in the dark.

You don’t need a cauldron,
only your woman’s body,
where so many of men’s fine ideas
are translated into life.

You don’t need a wand, hazelwood or oak,
only to follow the subtle and impish
leafy green fellow
who beckons you into the forest,
the one who goes dancing
and playing his flute
through imperial trees.

And you don’t need the salt of earth.
You will taste that soon enough.

These things are the trappings,
the tortoise shell, the wolf skin, the blazoned shield.
It’s what’s inside, the star of becoming.
With that ablaze, you have everything you need
to conjure up new worlds.

Dolores Stewart, from The Nature of Things
(Reprinted with the poet's permission. She was my friend, and I miss her.)

4 comments:

francesray.substack.com said...

Cate, I discovered Delores Stewart from reading your blog. In short order I had purchased 'The Nature of Things' directly from her (and regret never buying 'Doors to the Universe' before she died. Now it's unavailable).
Thank you for posting "Instructions in Magic". What a poet she was.

Barbara Rogers said...

Do you think it would be ok to read this at an Imbolc ritual with women next Sunday? I just love it.

Tabor said...

I am not familiar with Ms. Stewart, but she does see things wholistically.

kerrdelune said...

Barbara, I think Dolores would be delighted.