When the Music Stops
Magic
The kind that stretches
The fabric of who you are
And in a blinding instant
Makes you more than you were
Somewhere deep inside
We all know the trembling thrill
Oh, not sleight of hand or
Exquisite stage illusions
Not smoke and mirror card tricks
Or up close abracadabra
It is the high octane magic that
Helps you to survive the
Everyday commute between
Contentment and loneliness
The electric energy that
Allows you to thrive in spite of
Having to swim regularly
In the void of frustration
From wanting to having and
It’s that same mystery
From somewhere deep inside
Bursting at the seams with an awe
That remembers all our yesterdays
And fuels the dreams of tomorrow...
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