Merlin Talking to Himself, Long Island Poem for Halloween Sunday

In a few days princesses and witches, ghosts, pirates, skeletons, etc, will knock on your door and try to trick you. What a fun game of pretend it is. But what if you are the real thing, a grown, wizened wizard, doing magic for a very long time? We offer an inside look conjured by poet John Digby.

Collage by John Digby

Merlin Talking to Himself
for Jeremy Reed
by John Digby 

Once I could talk to water
And turn it into stone

I could behead the night
With a smile
And turn flowing blood
Into a blazing field of poppies

In any of my former lives
I could walk among the stars
And name every one
And remember each name

I could hold the sun in my left hand
And cool it with my breath

In my right hand
I could hold all the dead
And make them dance
Until they dropped from exhaustion

I could make the birds perch
On the fingers of rain
And make them sing so sweetly
That the stars would rain tears

Even in sleep
I could cut off the legs of a goat
With a wink
And make it fly around the moon

Nowadays
I can only change my shadow into a horse
And make it ride over the tops of forests
And other simple thing like that

Bah and they call that a miracle!

'Merlin Talking to Himself' by John Digby from 'Sailing Away from Night' published in 1978 by Anvil Press Poetry and Kayak Books.
Reprinted with author's permission.

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