National Poetry Day - The Star

Buddha Amida, Japan

To the Herbalist’s...

To remind me, with its symbol of the snake and staff,

that Asklepios teaches – not just the cure for illness,

but its meaning.

The cure then becomes a path,

a journey, a slow unwrapping

of the unknown.

It can make your heart pause

then flutter – pause, then glide

and shift, as if it stretches

in its skin, then steps out -

and enters all of your perceptions.

It can be difficult to walk along the pavements

when they glow – when people glow

and buildings glow, like this.

It doesn’t matter that apothecaries

of the present day don’t drop herbs

into alembics, mutter incantations

as they stir; that potions are sold

across the counter by bright-eyed

healthy-looking young people – the potency

is unchanged; though I regret

the passing – in this country – of the symbol -

the snake twined round the staff -

a reminder of where the power comes from.

Medicine in my bag, I then remember

there’s a jadeite axe

I’d like to see, in the Museum.

But it’s not displayed, I’m told.

Instead, I see this being

of serenity, shrouded in lotus calm,

protective guardians behind him.

And – of course – he’s glowing.