Mini-saga day five

Is this entry prose or poetry? I was reading a book on synchronicity given to me last night at the end of Wild Angels program I have facilitated for ten years. My friend Patrick had told the story of how we met in the center of the labyrinth at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine. As I waited for the train I read a story written by Mark Watts- in the first line he says, “my late father Alan Watts”, and I thought Alan Watts is dead? I pulled out my pen and notebook and began to work on the piece below. I have several versions but leave you with this one.

Sandy and Patrick at the center

Synchronicity

We met at the center of the blue lotus- sitting cross-legged and hungry.

I said, “Alan Watts is dead”—
In a dream, as he painted pelicans, he told me, “The western mind will never grasp this.”
The girl with the brown hair dropped poetry like flower petals down the path.

What else could you do with this form? How about a book twelve chapters long of fifty words each?

Could you do a series based on different themes?

Play with the form. Expand it. Write sagas on little cards and leave them in strange places. Place a saga that represents you and print it on the back of your business card.