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In search of wonder | Olwethu Mxoli
15 days ago
Have you ever wondered how to maintain a stronger connection with a younger, more bright-eyed version of yourself and live more adventurously?
If so, you are not alone. Poets have been asking this question for centuries and recorded the results of their research in magnificent poems of frustration and wonder.
Olwethu Mxoli is a poet and schoolteacher from the Eastern Cape who has thought deeply about the losses and gains associated with growing up. Her poems, which have been published in several anthologies produced by Ecca Poets, explore what it means to long for wholeness and sanity when they seem to be absent.
This month, she shared a particularly fine poem with the AVBOB Poetry Project, first published in What It Is (Ecca, 2020). In it, she remembers a time when magic and wonder felt easily accessible to her.
Read the poem and notice how it slowly builds tension as it draws us into its world.
The poem opens in an atmosphere of profound stillness. The speaker seems totally content, preparing for “the quiet cover of night”. Even the dog politely slows the movements of her tail so as not to disturb the peace.
The small airplane’s motor breaks the silence in the third stanza, but the speaker remains undisturbed, passive. Even the plane’s motor is tired and lacks energy.
In the fourth stanza, the tone suddenly changes. We discover that this speaker feels “the need to wish / for something. / Anything.”
What could this mean? Can it really be so difficult to wish for something, anything?
Then we learn that she used to find it much easier to wish for things, “slapping my mouth at the sky / screaming out every desire / foolishly hoping.” This is a beautifully haunting revelation. We are being told that the speaker has become wiser and more mature, more aware that wishing for things may be futile. But there is so much energy in the image of shouting desires at the sky that we want to be on the side of this younger, adventurous version of her.
The poem seems to end on a note of sadness: magic can be slowly, quietly unlearned, until we no longer believe that the sky contains “miraculous things”.
The story, however, does not end there. That image of the hopeful, passionate child is too powerful for that. It evokes the longing for a richer, more open-hearted existence. By casting this image into such a hauntingly beautiful poem, Mxoli demonstrates the magic of poetry, which can startle us back into wonder even when we believe it is more sensible to take the world at face value. In this way, it can help us relearn powers of perception we thought we had outgrown or cast aside long ago.
In the next few days, write a poem in which you describe yourself rediscovering magic and wonder in the middle of an ordinary day.
The annual AVBOB Poetry Competition opens for submissions on 1 August 2025. Visit www.avbobpoetry.co.za today and familiarise yourself with the competition rules.
If so, you are not alone. Poets have been asking this question for centuries and recorded the results of their research in magnificent poems of frustration and wonder.
Olwethu Mxoli is a poet and schoolteacher from the Eastern Cape who has thought deeply about the losses and gains associated with growing up. Her poems, which have been published in several anthologies produced by Ecca Poets, explore what it means to long for wholeness and sanity when they seem to be absent.
This month, she shared a particularly fine poem with the AVBOB Poetry Project, first published in What It Is (Ecca, 2020). In it, she remembers a time when magic and wonder felt easily accessible to her.
Read the poem and notice how it slowly builds tension as it draws us into its world.
Unlearning Magic
The sky is tinged orange
with the final kiss of the sun
and we sit
waiting
for the quiet cover of night.
The dog long accustomed to my still ways
slows her tail to my heartbeat
and does not ask questions.
with the final kiss of the sun
and we sit
waiting
for the quiet cover of night.
The dog long accustomed to my still ways
slows her tail to my heartbeat
and does not ask questions.
Above us a small airplane’s
tired motor splinters the silence
but I am not disturbed.
I am filled with the need to wish
for something.
Anything.
tired motor splinters the silence
but I am not disturbed.
I am filled with the need to wish
for something.
Anything.
Just like I used to
slapping my mouth at the sky
screaming out every desire
foolishly hoping.
I don’t remember when I stopped believing
that skies held miraculous things.
It was a noiseless unlearning of magic.
slapping my mouth at the sky
screaming out every desire
foolishly hoping.
I don’t remember when I stopped believing
that skies held miraculous things.
It was a noiseless unlearning of magic.
The poem opens in an atmosphere of profound stillness. The speaker seems totally content, preparing for “the quiet cover of night”. Even the dog politely slows the movements of her tail so as not to disturb the peace.
The small airplane’s motor breaks the silence in the third stanza, but the speaker remains undisturbed, passive. Even the plane’s motor is tired and lacks energy.
In the fourth stanza, the tone suddenly changes. We discover that this speaker feels “the need to wish / for something. / Anything.”
What could this mean? Can it really be so difficult to wish for something, anything?
Then we learn that she used to find it much easier to wish for things, “slapping my mouth at the sky / screaming out every desire / foolishly hoping.” This is a beautifully haunting revelation. We are being told that the speaker has become wiser and more mature, more aware that wishing for things may be futile. But there is so much energy in the image of shouting desires at the sky that we want to be on the side of this younger, adventurous version of her.
The poem seems to end on a note of sadness: magic can be slowly, quietly unlearned, until we no longer believe that the sky contains “miraculous things”.
The story, however, does not end there. That image of the hopeful, passionate child is too powerful for that. It evokes the longing for a richer, more open-hearted existence. By casting this image into such a hauntingly beautiful poem, Mxoli demonstrates the magic of poetry, which can startle us back into wonder even when we believe it is more sensible to take the world at face value. In this way, it can help us relearn powers of perception we thought we had outgrown or cast aside long ago.
In the next few days, write a poem in which you describe yourself rediscovering magic and wonder in the middle of an ordinary day.
The annual AVBOB Poetry Competition opens for submissions on 1 August 2025. Visit www.avbobpoetry.co.za today and familiarise yourself with the competition rules.
