The witching hour
Like a raven’s hair
The moon’s gone
Few stars shone
The heart’s beating
The body’s shaking
Pan’s flute fills fear
Hecate’s prime hour
A traveler’s lost in it
Wandering in circuit
Of roaming, wandering
neverending.
Category: Poetry
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Circuitous
-
Crystal castle
For all her life
She’s built
Castles herself:
Stone, wood,
Sand, she lived
To tear it down
And again left;
Now’s crystal
she can only
break it down
To pieces by pieces
To destroy the images
Haunting, gripping
To erase the traces
Of nightmares when
She wakes up again. -
Tree of the Universe
They called it,
“Yggdrasil”
a noble tree
holding the universe
with three roots
for three races-
Death’s souls,
Frost-giants’ land,
and humans’ world-
If you saw the tree
even in your dream,
you should’ve fought
the dragon gnawing
the roots within
Ere they got rotten. -
Hard labor
There’s a class difference
In the kinds of racket
Whether you believe it or not.
The tennis racket’s patrician
The badminton racket’s plebeian
But no matter what they are
Their work is hard labor
Hitting, hit, swooshing, swooshed
All for the excitement of the spirits. -
My labyrinth
The labyrinth I’m in
The paths after paths
Cycle in epicycle repeats
Without Ariadne’s thread
In the endless pursuit
Of the uncertain exit
That the maze hides
By stalking me with it
From day one, flat out
Till I reckon it’s my plight
My creation, mine only -
Winged
Still yearning
Still learning
The eager heart
Even for the fate
Riddled with
Tangled plagues
Keeps the eyes
At the stars above
And soars, falls
Falls and soars
With neverending
Aspiration to fly
Across the sky
Even on one
Winged foot.
Flame, Glass and Ink are Poems, essays, and reading notes by Stefania Joori Suh 
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