A Wizard

A Wizard

 

“Wizard” he was called,

And had advised many a chieftain,

Though they would not admit,

Preferring to guard their reputations.

But they were seen arriving and leaving

When troubles visited the clans.

“Magician” he was named,

Though his potions and powders,

Were but recipes forgotten

Handed to him by mother and aunt,

Or kept in ancient annal.

But many would come there

In the latest hour

To seek cure

For ills they could not name.

“Sorcerer” he was said to be,

Though his knowledge

Was hidden in old tomes

He allowed any to read.

Those that did

Would study long

And often left

To succor clans distant.

“Witch” he was proclaimed,

And although he was not shunned,

He was avoided,

Lest one become spelled

By that he would teach if allowed.

For he would tell of wonders

And the nature of things

And some would listen most, or too, often.

“Seer” and “shaman” or “medium”

And many other names besides,

Were given him beyond his hearing,

But he would prefer “professor.”

For that is what he was once called

Before the Swift Collapse.

But no one called him that,

For they knew not what it meant,

Nor why he wished to teach them things

They thought they had no use for,

Nor why he sighed so often.

Still, they came to him at need,

And left just a bit too quickly,

Lest his magic harm them,

Or teach them things,

They dare not question.

And always behind them,

The long sigh,

And a sad visage,

Unbearable to see.

 

Cliff Lake 12/21/2023

Copyright © Clifford Lake 2023