One Kind of Magic

A silver spiel detaches—

And so, a story starts.

Stops.

Starts again.

Quicksilver pushing iron,

Reality blends for fantasie’s ends

Into wondrous colour.

A continuous weaving

Shining cloth, intricate designs.

A sparkle or two of genius,

The pirouette of a Ballerina,

The wings of a swan.

That for a second—

Illusion flight!

Catharsis:

Dear earth bound tree

And lingering threads of ecstasy.

Fruit of sapped, synthesized Joy…

That glow forever in thee.

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3 thoughts on “One Kind of Magic

  1. Pingback: My Homepage
  2. Welcome to ‘Deep Under the Shadows’ Thomas. I am glad you liked the poem.

    This was written at a time when my mind functioned at its purest and is the result of a distilled thought process that was able to connect life and the act of forming a story…

    Like

  3. I ended up reading this twice. On the second reading the beauty of it became clearer to me. The silver spiral begins as a story, bending reality, then becomes a weaving (with that as a new metaphor), then
    The pirouette of a Ballerina,
    The wings of a swan.
    leading to catharsis:
    Dear earth bound tree
    And lingering threads of ecstasy.
    Fruit of sapped, synthesized Joy…
    and the lyricism of love: That glow forever in thee.
    Life does sometimes spiral like that in all of those aspects. Great poem!

    Like

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