Magic
She knelt on the floor
moving fingers
over the paper grid
speaking.
Invisible catapults
more crystals fell
running, shimmering
dissolving
chains melting
streaming away,
shining in the sunlight
like dew running down
a spider’s web
til blown away gently
a freshness prevails
replacing the broken strands
a sense of wholeness.
And I look at her
still
intent apon her magic
And I cannot say what
she has done
neither is there any need
to speak
Words are inadequate
Silent wonder, calming, astonishing,
freeing
She looks up
to see what has happened
And where to go next
Copyright © Rachael Wood | Year Posted 2022
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