Untitled thought

There hung a moon in the ceiling of clouds

Hidden from view

Silver hues of grey filtering barely through

Seeking to sit a spell with an audience

Of one

And I drifted over, pushing aside the misty shapes

To make room on the seat of a craggy rock,

And I slid into a waking dream,

 I was moving on dark waters searching for round orbs,

Pucks perhaps that held magic

And I watched the comings and goings of the strangers around me,

If nothing else but to see how the game was played,

What the goal of finding these pucks meant.

The different colors meant different things

And I would grab one up

Only to find disappointment,

It wasn’t working,

Not like it was for the others,

So I stopped and thought surely, there must be a trick to this,

To gathering the right ones,

And so I watched to see which ones in particular were being picked up

And it seemed to me the lighter smaller pucks were the ones,

The others merely decoys,

And with a light heart I gingerly picked a shining luminescent white and rippled blue one,

The one that spoke to me the most,

And I looked up with the widest smile

And realized I was amongst the stars,

Behind the curtain of clouds

Hanging amongst the most beautiful shining lights

And I laughed aloud

And a sound like twinkling crystal filled the air.

It was a beautiful moment and I knew then,

To truly find the magic

Certain things needed to be done.

The darkest night of greys and black needed to be let go,

That I needed to seek out that divine light,

That I had to feel the purity in a heart

That had sat silent too long,

That had forgotten the magic

Of the piece of stars gathered

And wished upon with love.
Gearing back into writing mode with a jump start after reading the lovely poetry of a friend. Needing to Embrace the magic once more on this full moon Christmas Eve.

Beautiful art found at Janewatsonart.com