All Posts by Rahma Krambo

Rumi and the Zen Circle

Enso - an open circle

The breeze at dawn has secrets to share.The door to middle space openswhere the two worlds touch. The magic is here. The only ticket required is your presence. You must ask for what you want. But first,you must know what you want.All this wanting is a question.All this questioning is a quest. The door is […]

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Side effects of love

Love should come with a warning label. Caution! May cause side effects. Anxiety, confusion, nausea, sleeplessness, heart palpitations. The red flowers should be a hint that tears will be shed. True love is not for the faint-hearted. It opens you to greater things. No one is prepared for the transformation, so don’t be alarmed. We […]

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Meditation for harried souls

What? You want another poem?Quickly please. I don’t have a lot of time but I need to stay in touch.Poems take slowing down, slow deep breathing.Nothing harder than doing nothing.How boring it sounds and besides I need to start a load of laundry. Just one deep breathe. You can manage that.Over there…a glimpse of the oceanbehind a glass […]

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While we weren’t watching

A moment of grace

While we weren’t watching, the sky deepened into shades of charcoal with points of light created by an army of angels blowing holes through the darkness. While our sleep was broken into dreams, earthworms transformed leaves and sightless moles played tag with each other through tunnels in the back yard. While our heads were sunk […]

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Where poems come from

Poem Magical Realism -Where Poems come from

​Drinking coffee, waiting for the courier. Two owls hoot love notes to each other in owlish Morse code. Or maybe they’re discussing strategy. It’s hard to tell with owls. Hummingbirds buzz at the feeder. In between sips of sugar water, they fret about their babies. My cat rolls over and stretches like a piece of elongated orange […]

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The sage’s tent

The last cage rolls past. Strains of a Souza march float back over the receding circus train. Children wave flags from high atop their father’s shoulders. Confetti and cotton candy fill the air.  The trumpets’ final notes echo off canyon walls. You can’t see the marching band any longer, but the drumsticks’ crisp solitary clicks leave […]

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The Old Stone Savage

ancient bison rubbing stone - Arm River Valley in Saskatchewan, Canada

The old stone savage moves slowly. You and I would not notice his nomadic ways. A rock of considerable size, the old stone was only a speck of primal dust when earth’s violent labor pains delivered its raw materials. Angels clung to each other in fear and awe of its clamorous birth.  Having arisen to […]

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Three Old Taoist Philosophers

Three old Taoist philosophers as tabbies and calico Chat on the magnolia branch Sharing deep thoughts about the ​elegance of sunshine and house finches, ​the poverty of human spirit, ​the art of stalking, ​the cleverness of politicians; ​Viennese skeptics who branded Marco Polo a fraud ​the North Star, ​the scent of books and a few […]

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