Spiritual Nerves Poem by Margaret Alice Second

Though I feel like the fairy Pea-Blossom in my new
muted pink ensemble, there' s greater resemblance
to Miss Marple, a fluffy sleuth - yet this will not stop
me from dreaming with my magic mirror that plays
along and shows me as a flower fairy - even though

Other mirrors tell a different story, with a flower-fairy-
concert in my head I sing & dance all day long, the
little alien in my head turning somersaults - singing
louder then me - now to evaluate the words of deva-
conscious, angel-& -spirit communicating Dr Bloom

Who says we can meet devas by being still - being
aware of our bodies - when I tried my body insisted
chocolate-dipped koeksister's essential for survival,
ate one, still again & I fell asleep - at least it was a
marvellous feeling, I suppose the devas know that

I'm not a very good friend, they don't waste time on
me as I would be reading while they're talking about
the home-altar-spirit, and singing when they explain
things - I won't be an asset to the devas' world, too
tense & on edge - which forecloses my mind and

There are no willing disciples waiting in the wings to
hear me relay any spirit-messages, verily, their poor
spiritual nerves would be frayed…