Today, try writing your own poem that discusses a real or mythical being or profession (demons, firefighters, demonic firefighters) with the same sort of musing yet dispassionate tone.
My first instinct was a unicorn. Then a mermaid. Both felt too familiar—creatures so often reimagined they’ve lost whatever strangeness they started with. So I went looking for something less common and found the qilin, a creature from Chinese mythology that appears only at the birth or death of a great sage or ruler. I learned that because it exists only in relation to greatness, and greatness has grown scarce, the qilin is rarely seen anymore (not extinct, exactly) just waiting for an occasion that keeps failing to arrive. That felt like the right creature for this challenge.
They appear only for the great men, which is to say rarely now. The last confirmed sighting was four or five centuries ago, give or take. They do not bend grass. Whether the grass cares about this is not known. Their scales are probably green, or gold; it depends on the dynasty. The horn is sometimes there and sometimes not. The scholars do not agree, but they agree about very little. They eat nothing living. Perhaps nothing at all. Perhaps they are simply not hungry. When a sage is born, a qilin comes. When one dies, it comes again. Between these occasions it is somewhere unrecorded. . . . Their sound is like bells in a room you have just left. No one is in that room anymore.
Here is a video with more information about this mythical creature.
Prompt Inspiration
Via NaPoWriMo
In his poem, “Angels,” Russell Edson speaks of these spiritual warrior-messenger-guardians as if they were a type of endangered animal. Brief as it is, the poem is disorienting in its use of flattened diction, odd similes, and elliptical statements.
Upcoming…
A story by James Ron with a complementary poem:
IN A HOT SPRING, 2 May 2026
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I Wish I Had Known A Kitsune When I Was Young
I wish I had known a Kitsune when I was young.
Like all foxes, they are happiest in the woods,
Growing wiser as the decades pass.
With wisdom comes additional tails,
Up to nine for the oldest of those fox spirits,
Evolving into a whitish, golden color as they gain power.
By the time they become centenarians, they are considered supreme spiritual beings.
Maybe it is important that they belong to a deity, if they are to be benevolent.
Maybe it is tragic to have no deity as they are then trickesters.
Maybe it is the balance of the celestial powers to have both.
Maybe it is a service to trick the greedy and guard the honest.
I wish I could see an older Kitsune shapeshift,
Becoming a beautiful woman, an old man or maybe even a young girl.
Hard as it is, they can be revealed if others see their tails, hard to hide sometimes.
If I were lucky, I might see a “sun shower”,
The secret magical procession of the fox wedding.
If I were lucky, I might catch sight of the foxfire lanterns that light their path.
If I were lucky, I would find them a good omen.
Starball, fox jewel, red pearl, sacred treasure,
Source of the fox-fire, carried in their mouth.
So would like to glance the container of the Kitsune lifeforce.
THE QILIN
The Qliin has been sleeping
No use to keep on weeping
Men aren't great anymore
Rotten to their cores
How did we get to this ?
No man made the list
Everyone is out for themselves
The Qulin sits on a shelf
Only in this time of travail
We have to wait for evil
To be conquered
By the One who has mastered
The temptation of the world
Let the banners be unfurled
The Prince of Peace is coming soon
And the Qulin will arise before noon
Thank you , Caro !