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...