The Alchemist

Finds fruit amongst efforts thought squandered.

Photo by Artem Maltsev on Unsplash

I, Magician
Half-cooked. Overcooked
Recipe says put honey on crumpets
But it disappears into the cracks
Quackery!

I, Medicine Man
Couldn’t save the forrest from the trees
Nature speaks in riddles
Whispers so faint it’s loud…
But I need noise, not volume
Sanctimony!

I, Philosopher
Dreamt the dream
Went to speak at the lectern…
But danced instead
Brevity, not levity
Sophist!

I, Lover
Played the harp at Cupid’s funeral
When I should have been on drums
Eerie disquiet
Among a crowd wanting (deserving) more
Mendicant!

And yet the crumpets were still sweet
And yet nature cleared Her own throat
And yet the dance was more potent than the speech
And yet the harp still pleased Cupid