Magic (poem)
My idea of magic doesn't have muchto do with stage tricks and illusions.The whole world abounds in magic.When a whale plunges out of the sealike a newborn mountain, you gaspin unexpected delight. What magic!
But a toddler who seeshis first tadpole flashingin a mud puddle,feels the same thrill!Wonder fills his heart,because he has glimpsed,for an instant, theplayfulness of life.
When I see the clouds whisked awayfrom a snow-capped peak, I feel likeshouting: "Bravo! Nature, the best ofall magicians, has delivered anotherthrill". She has exposed the real illusion.Our inability to be amazed by her wonders.
Every time the sun rises, nature isrepeating one command: "Behold!".Her magic is infinitely lavish, and inreturn all we have to do is appreciate it.
What delight nature must feel whenshe makes stars out of swirlinggas and empty space.She flings them like spanglesfrom a velvet cape. A billion reasonsfor us to awaken in pure joy.
When we open our heartsand appreciate all she has given us,nature finds her reward. The soundof applause rolls across the universe,and she bows.