Poem: Magic

This work was sparked by a read of Shel Silverstein’s ‘Magic’. It started out as a kind of free write, then I found myself looking for rhymes, and by the end of it, had discovered a truth behind the particular experiences I describe below. Though it is descriptive and tells a real story, you’ll find that it’s not literature, as I do keep up rhythm and rhyme. However, I didn’t feel comfortable formatting it like a real poem (though it is by definition) as its rhyme and rhythm certainly aren’t tight and consistent enough. So, I formatted it in a unique way I felt would reflect its ultimate nature as a story, not a poem, while still admitting its undeniable poetry. Enjoy!

 

All the magic I’ve ever known I’ve had to make myself. I’ve never ridden a dragon, or anything like that. But I certainly have imagined myself high in the sky, the air and clouds rushing past. And in doing so, felt something better than the real thing. Magic came to visit me, and he liked what he saw. So he blessed my imagination, turned around, and was gone.

 

So I spent my childhood with my head up in the clouds, wondering about this and wishing for that, ‘til my childhood days were gone. And I think I forgot about Magic, for I didn’t feel him again for years. His eyes had wandered somewhere else, far away from here.

 

Slowly, I became just a little more different than how I used to be, until I visited the theater, and, goodness! There was he! I saw him watching the same show as I, and blessing the dancers’ movements. He blessed the singers’ voices, the stage! It was impossible to miss.

 

I then became an avid consumer of any theatre I could get my hands on. Each time, I saw the Magic there, and everything he brought along. Each show whirled me away – to France, to Oz, to Egypt! Everyone there loved it too, but for me it was indescribably different.

 

But once, and I’m not sure when, but I’m sure it was during a show, Magic, previously indifferent, saw me sitting in a row. We came to make eye contact, and he did something else to me. Beyond a blessing, it was compelling – I had to be on that stage – it was simply meant to be!

 

So I became a dancer, and danced ‘til I felt the magic. I became a singer and an actress, and sang and acted ’til I felt the magic. An audition came, and balanced my heart on a razor blade of fear. Then out of it came my good debut – the fairy queen of Shakespeare!

 

I put it aside, didn’t really try, I thought I had it down. But show night came, and I felt Magic come to visit me alone. I happily acknowledged him, but he didn’t return the greeting. He made me pace back and forth, ‘til I was only the fairy queen. Onstage I couldn’t feel the magic, because I couldn’t think as Anna. I really was only the fairy queen, which I thought almost tragic.

 

Every night, the spell grew stronger; by the spotlight I was transformed. But the last show came and the spell was ended: Titania was no more.

 

I wondered why I never felt him on that shining, glorious stage. But the more I thought about it, the lesser it seemed strange. Fantastic things flow in and out of this childlike mind, you see, and now I think I’ve figured it out – the Magic was only a part of me.

 

Thank you so much for reading, and if you liked it/hated it/whatever, just know that I appreciate comments! God bless!

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