It’s Magic



Just when you think all hope is lost,

the magician performs his trick

He whips out the hankerchiefs,

swirls and twirls them and it appears

The light I’ve been looking for

behind the smoke and mirrors

You prance, you dance,

you hold me in a trance

and then, you take a bow

Suddenly my spirits are lifted,

my eyes open to the fact that I’m blessed and gifted

I’m outrageous, courageous,

gorgeous and a magnificent creation

I treasure the thought

that there is no one exactly like me

and celebrate

Like a child searching under the Christmas tree,

for surprising gifts I have yet to find

Some might be small and fragile

though bursting with intention to please

Others will have been the culmination

of rich emotions or tortured soul

Others will seek to nurture and heal,

release or conceal

Then there’ll be the all show and no tell

or the paradox of  love me,  love me not

The magician is back on stage again,

bowing to a cheering audience

He showers us with rain

 thunderbolts of lightning,

vivid flashes so very, very frightening

And then, he wipes the sky clean of all clouds,

pulls the sun out of his pocket

And I go to bed ,

with the memory of his final curtain call

and his drum roll in my head .