I need a little magic on this cold, wet, blustery day.
I need to be reminded that blue skies will come.
It’s a day for wrapping in a blanket and reading a book. Maybe sipping tea.
But not for a fire.
The man who inspected our fireplace said, “no more fires, it isn’t safe.”
We don’t want to burn down our house
Or inhale smoke because the chimney won’t draw
So, this weekend we’re off to the gas fireplace store.
There were birds singing wildly outside the grocery store this afternoon.
They want blue skies, too.
They feel it coming in longer days.
Soon leaves will burst and buds will bloom.
I see magic in everyday things.
In the shimmer of a rainy sky. A promise of a rainbow.
I see a diamond in a rain drop clinging to a branch;
Raindrops clinging to the ends of the branches look like crystal flower buds waiting to explode into rainbows.
I see a fairy in a pile of leaves.
I tell his story.
I see faces in the trees when I hike through woodlands. I nod and say hello.
I see dragons and dinosaurs in drift wood. I nod and say hello.
I see magic in the love of a new born babe, nestling in a mother’s embrace.
I see magic in a loved one’s eyes.
I see magic in life, and in strength to overcome adversity.
I see magic in art, in dance, in music.
I asked my dad to build a cradle for my first born.
I helped design the cradle with bunnies and bears.
Dad built it with skill and love and promise.
A family heirloom.
The cradle is carved with the names of his grandchildren who slept within its embrace.
One great-grandchild has slept there.
His name was the last one dad carved.
There will be more.
I wonder who will carve their names.