Tag Archives: magic

Why You?

Why you, I wonder?
He hides Love in the most unlikely people and places,
and then nudges us towards them.
Why do I love you?
My intellect provides a hundred possible reasons,
but my heart knows better.
It was never a choice, was it?
You arrived
and suddenly my heart –
clamped shut for so long –
broke open.
The crack was tiny, at first,
imperceptible and unnoticed.
But with time, it gasped and grew,
until its sudden breadth
overwhelmed my breath.
I never even knew what hit me.

There were so many things wrong with you,
yet I was completely enamored.
Hadn’t heartbreak taught me anything?
Hadn’t it hardened me to Love’s fickle nature?
Why do I desire to ache mercilessly at all times?
This ache will ruin me.
Yet still, I want to be ruined.
The angel and demon within me
argue endlessly –
which is which,
and who is saying what,
I do not know.
Are you good for me?
Or bad for me?
You simply are.
Is it a sin to sit and stare at you for hours,
even if “you” are just an imprint
on my imagination?
I expect nothing from you.
I want to, but know I can’t.
Just your existence,
your spirit roaming the same world as mine,
your smile and safety,
that is what I pray for.
Why He hid this Love in you,
I do not know.
What purpose will it serve?
What torture will I endure?
Who knows?
But I submit myself to it anyway.
In truth, my soul begs for it.
Everyone knows
romantics are the worst kind of masochists,
who try to make love to life’s every moment,
who live for the highs,
and die for the lows,
and suffer the pauses between,
by spinning stories
like silk
out of the most beautiful silence.

Now though,
my stories suffocate me,
imprisoning me like Anarkali
within lofty palace walls.
When did this Love solidify?
Wasn’t it meant to free me?
I breathe fire to melt this steel
because this Love was meant to steal
so much more.
You and I were meant for bigger things.
I spread your nectar among others
like a selfless honey bee,
because you, my beloved…
you amplify me.

In your presence,
I forget myself,
and remember the One Who created you,
the One Who made our paths cross.
Of a certainty, we will part,
and age,
and turn to dust,
but so, too,
is this separation a myth,
our true nature –
ageless,
and this moment –
molten
magic.

Magic Stone

What magic lies in the errant stone
you tripped over on your daily walk?
It is not so much the stone itself,
as what you see in it:
A cold, hard nuisance?
A creation of the lowliest rank?
Or something to be felt between your fingers,
gliding them across its smooth surface,
as you shiver in delight?
Do you contemplate its jagged edges,
and the igneous pressure it surely endured
to create them?
The magic lies not just in what you see,
but also
in how you see it,
and what that reflects
about yourself.
This mirrored magic is divine,
beauty beheld and beholden.
This magic can give you wings,
if you allow it,
a desire to live
just to feel it,
just to wield it.

Belief mixed with the promise of fulfillment
is a powerful concoction,
offered freely and yet,
so few will stop to sip it.
When they do,
what was once invisible
comes starkly into sight,
what was once silence
manifests into melody,
what was once loved with lip service,
transforms into Love, embodied,
basking, bursting,
till it shatters all Illusion.
The promise of attaining your deepest wish
was but a ruse.
Indeed, your heart’s desire
has been with you
this whole time.

There is no easing into magic.
You plunge, heart-first, into the ocean,
the home you never knew you had.
You swim and wade and luxuriate.
It is all your soul could ever soak up
and more.

Greatest Show on Earth

Step right up!
Step right up!
Come one, come all,
to the greatest show on Earth.
This world is a magical feat
of engineering,
with its constant
in and out,
push and pull,
rise and fall.
We contract and expand,
exude and absorb,
evolve and dissolve.
The sheer magnitude of movement
could drive anyone mad,
let alone
little, old you.
If only you were able to witness it
all at once.
But you
exist in your own bubble,
coping with what you can,
delighting in what you can.
You take yourself so seriously,
as if you
control the fate of the world,
as if you
weren’t just some speck
on a blue ball
twirling through space,
a puppet in a play.
Allow yourself to let your guard down,
dance instead of dawdle,
sing instead of speak,
revel instead of run away.
You are wholly insignificant,
and yet,
you
are all you have.
It’s time to
write your own rules,
learn to love yourself,
and raise people’s spirits.
Rely
and be relied upon.
Dwell in gratitude
for being created
out of thin air,
from nothing into something,
an illusion,
a mirage.
But best not get too swept up in the show
standing on the sidelines, as you are.
Spring forward,
jump in,
get your hands dirty,
take part in this grand adventure.
Conjure up magical feats,
eloquent engineering,
of your own.
You
are the main event here.
Time’s a-wastin’, though.
This carnival won’t stay open
for long.

Bliss

Sparking magic and wonder in an innocent child’s eyes,
autumn trees swathed in emeralds, rubies and citrine,
summertime sunsets reflected in still waters,
the sound of steam rising from a kettle,
sharing long-held secrets with a trust-worthy confidante,
stolen kisses with a long-time love,
gentle breezes skirting past during evening walks,
and the tingling sensation of reuniting with your Beloved:
this
is
bliss.
Moments borrowed from heaven.
Moments that make you wish
you weren’t so numb.
Moments that make you yearn
for the courage to feel
these blissful reminders
of Bliss itself.