Here are examples of ways the fairies live in people’s lives. Enjoy.


A new poem by Mary Pratt, written after visiting my studio.

LABYRINTH

Red boards, white halls.

Posters and paint.

The inside of a piano.

A washer full of light.


Two stairways

to one long corridor.


You do not have a clue.

You do not need one.


If you are lost, cry out,

no doubt someone


will hear you.

You will always be found.


What you do

is up to you.


At the center—

no minotaur--


a glass door. Behind it,

earnest, commanding


fairies are waiting.

What did you expect?


Their Queen,

at first glance seems


innocent, unwinged.

Little do you know.


Her throne a desk.

Her wand a pen.


Enter at your peril.

Are you ready


to love the edges?

To practice not-doing?


Are you ready

to change your life?

-Mary Pratt

(It’s all true. Come visit.- emily)


Also by Mary and inspired by the ‘Fairy of Around the Edges of Oddness"‘

BACK TO THE EDGES OF ODDNESS

Since midsummer, fairies with green wings

twinkle around my eyes all night long.

They beg me to be invisible,

offer me fernseed and a cap woven

of milkweed and thistle fluff.

The dog is restless when they are in the house,

and my husband can’t sleep,

and I can’t explain. The cats

don’t seem to mind.


Whatever shall we do with realism,

reason, logic, the sciences that deny

the way things are? A cloud of demons,

their sharp laughter, the steadfast angels

raising their lavender shields.

Every tree has a soul; early in the morning

you can hear them singing to the sun.

Their music wakes the birds.

Angels are stars, balls of flaming gas.

Everything is real, but more or less

than anyone can imagine.

God is everything.

Nothing is mutually exclusive.


LOCATIONS

a poem by Mary Pratt

“. . around the edges of oddness”

~A Bluebird Fairy by Emily Anderson

 

You won’t find it 

in halls of ivy, or

in the chambers of kings.

It isn’t between the covers 

of carefully curated 

volumes available only

to members with reservations.

Never in anything 

organized 

by color or size.

Never in anything glossed

or listed or rewarded. 

     But look!

It’s teetering on a tooth

from a reconstructed

conodont. Spinning

on the rim of a sixpence

balanced on a pole

balanced on the rubber

nose of a clown

riding a unicycle on 

a tightrope stretched

between a stormcloud

and the beak of a raven.

It’s lurking in the garden dirt

under the left thumbnail

of the weaver’s second

daughter. If you want it,

you might start there.



‘I’ve just been picking a fairy out of the pack every day—in a fairly orderly way—the one on the top—since Cathy gave them to me. When I’ve been through the whole deck, I’ll shuffle and start again. The Chosen Fairy is hung up on a kitchen cabinet so I can see it off and on all day. I like them so very much!’- Mary Pratt


Dear Emily,

I am writing from Mexico.  Our son and his love have a pack of your fairy cards. Every morning they draw and set one up. The day we arrived they had just hung up replacement hummingbird feeder to  enhance their bird friends. And the next card they drew was the fairy of bird relationships. They love the practice. 

Gracias por todo. 

Sharyl and Peter