Little globes of vision
Blink with design
By the hand of a magic man
Or by generations in time
Little digits of curiosity
Grip for everything that they can
A marvel and a wonder
Awe-stricken for a span
Fingers touch to fingers
Like a twig to a stump
Dryness in your throat
Swallowing lumps
Little life is cultivated
From somewhere in the beyond
The mystery is showing
Koi circling in a pond
This is the infinite
Wonderment of the innocent
Playing the roles of gods
With no knowledge or forethought
With mere seeds
Grows the world
With time’s passing
So do we
Just enough days
To be jaded by miracles
Faded to cynical
Death is never the pinnacle
Forgotten majestics
Pushed to the backs of our heads
Monotony
With which we fill our lives instead
I urge you to remember this moment
This one right here
Hold it in your mind’s eye
Keep it crystalline clear
For all those instances and times in this life
When you doubted magic
It got lost amidst the pain and the strife
But this here is proof
You are holding its hand
The mystic call of the world
Believe it if you can
Glance into those globes
Of everything pure and enchanted
And know in your heart
Magic exists
No comments:
Post a Comment