The mountain’s peak was white with snow,
the storm was raging on;
With muscles tense and staff aglow,
Hanan prepared for dawn.
For months he worked to reach this day,
and cast the final spell;
The spell to push all sin away,
to drink from wisdom’s well.
The altar, built from glass and stone,
stood ready for the night;
When sun will rise, and truth be shown,
for all to share its light.
The night had passed so dark and cold,
but darker was the day –
As on the altar’s plate of gold,
was just a bowl of hay.
Thus, mages: Let these words resound
and heed this sage advice:
The greatest spells are seldom found
on sale for discount price.
Shai Shapira is a computer programmer according to his certificates, but transforms into an amateur poet whenever opportunity comes, heavily inspired by the deserts of his native middle east and by centuries-old Maqama-style poetry. Currently touring Europe, and can usually be found attempting to create various unusual software projects.