Magic

Copyright © 1998 Property of Deborah K. Fletcher. All rights reserved.

October 11, 1988

Deep in the night
The magic grows
To fill a world
That has forgotten.
The magic stirs
And spins a web
Of dreams and nightmares
For a sleeping world.
The magic waits
For those with power
To tap its wellspring
And learn.
The magic sleeps
Under the daylight,
But in moonlight
The magic rules.
The magic is of a time
When men believed
In the powers
Of the human mind.
The magic grows
And goes untapped
By all but a few
Who remember its power.
The magic grows
And will engulf
A world of men
Who have forgotten.

For my mother - you share my gift of the mind, or I share yours - you gave me the magic every day of my life, concealed in reality - you gave me the freedom to dream.

Comments, constructive criticism, etc, about this poem are greatly appreciated.

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