This And Not Another

The Ancient Modern

This And Not Another /  Joshua Alan Sturgill

I woke with the scent of garlic and oil
still on my hands, and with lavender
from last night’s ablution. I am a druid

and my waking blessed the dim
of this—and not another—morning,

a blessing wordless, without effort
given to a morning darkness
different in quality from other dark.

I begin again with the dawn, as if
beginning was a thing still waiting

for its name. I rise into a mystery
I bear beyond myself, and start
the wizard’s work of summoning

another day’s meals, another day’s
language, and new embraces

different in quality from other food,
from previous words, different
from the arms of other nights. All

is the familiar unknown. You and I,
priests, with our cups of sacred

tea, and with quiet intention
must light again the fire and burn
the phoenix of ordinary life.

All poetry and supplementary material: copyright 2020 by Joshua Alan Sturgill. All rights reserved.