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Who Knows if Magic Exists

Who knows if magic exists, if dreams come true and whether miracles take place (all of these things we thought we knew) ... buried in our haste to dig childhood's grave... And though something gets lost along the way, it's never very far -- (and oddly enough never very near) We find it when we least expect (when the sun dips and the moon resurrects) Takes nothing more than some dry brush and a flicker (just enough, mind you, to convince any young squirt you're a wizard) And lo and behold ... a campfire is born! drawing friends and strangers alike. From those uneasy, longing for something more: those that wish to say to their long-traveled fears, "Take a Hike!" We are all Homo-Sapiens astride these flames, this moment, this night. And everything falls into place (and nothing makes sense) We say, "Eat a Snickers, Rat Race!" (and accept it as pretense) For nothing else exists when nature misbehaves such as this: orange and amber flames like twin spirits sparking our inner dialogue. Yet nothing at all do we hear save the sap-filled sophistries exploding in each and every log And yet illumination comes when the darkness of night overtakes We take pleasure in the heat of flames (and friends) simply for own sake... ...like sputterings of contentment, so softly nestled in each hiss and crack (the choir of pine cones bearing witness to all the days we'll never get back; the future nights, never reached) Up like the wisp of smoke we've seen a thousand times before ... poof! Gone like the fireflies we've caught and let slip, jarred and un-jarred, as if repetition was our duty (ain't that the truth) The mysteries of the mind hiding such enchantment at such vapid magic as this: wood burning (in the center of a semi-circle) -searing, as one would a bull, on all who gaze upon its diabolical delight These People! God up in heaven ... this Night! Who could dare contemplate the glory of this present moment ... how bright? Like a pinewood ember longing to join the likes of Leo, the party of Pisces, so to does one's thoughts linger on eternity and the Ever After -experienced in the Now In the company of Capricorn we cogitate the Cosmic Crafter "But it's just a campfire," one might interject "A couple logs and some heat ... nothing more!" ... and yet it sparks such intellect From deep within (you know it to be true) warm tendrils find their way (you can see it peeking through) ... to the surface, something ancient and new, slippery and sure; as mysterious as a mirror darkly (and yet oddly familiar) And who could doubt the conclusion? except those who never put flint to reed and watched a Red Flower bloom Yes, there is something mystical here concerning this brew of pine needles, deadwood and star laden dome roof And yet the paradigm comes back again! The age old question in quest for the truth: "Who knows if magic exists, if dreams comes true and whether miracles takes place?" I know it And so do you

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020




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Date: 5/10/2020 12:00:00 PM
What a joy to see you back writing, Tim: Most magic comes from being truly in the moment and open to all our senses. Loved being around the campfire with you. ....the warmth, the smell of smoke and the crackling flames. Hugs, SuZ
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Timothy Hicks
Date: 5/11/2020 11:47:00 AM
Open to all your sense ... I like that.
Date: 5/6/2020 5:43:00 PM
I know I'm a living miracle...I'm happy your poem reminded me of this dangerous truth Poet. I am also thrilled with your cool feedback on my poetry, it feels good to be appreciated. "The sap filled sophistries exploding from each and every log..." everybody has got to burst some time. Thanks for the campfire poetry...J.A.B.
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Timothy Hicks
Date: 5/11/2020 11:46:00 AM
It brings me joy to know a mission was accomplished. We are far more miraculous than we could ever imagine ... but day-to-day droning makes us forget this reality.
Date: 5/4/2020 11:33:00 PM
Timothy, The title of this poem may ask, but the poet and pine cones know the answer. All those campfires under the stars, sacrificing marshmallows to the flames. I especially miss the ones where the fire department was called. From this poem I think you have the fine makings of a magician turned arsonist. A Fave. PS I really liked the ending. -Richard
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Timothy Hicks
Date: 5/6/2020 4:33:00 PM
Honored by your fave and that you share in that secret magic that only the campfire can conjure! You make my day with your insightful appreciative comment.
Date: 5/2/2020 1:40:00 PM
Nope, not rusty. I think it’s possible that you are even better. ;0)
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Date: 4/30/2020 1:49:00 AM
Creativity at its best, passion digging deepest. Your voice is powerful here. What an excellent piece. Magic do exists, I prefer the miracles so that dreams come true in a surreal fashion. Wonderful! Wonderful! So wonderful.
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Timothy Hicks
Date: 4/30/2020 7:53:00 PM
Thanks Funom. Miracles happen all the time - you just have to have your eyes open to it.
Date: 4/27/2020 10:45:00 PM
A poem of that length that can hold attention is an exceptional write. You paced it well. Best regards David in NZ
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Timothy Hicks
Date: 4/29/2020 7:03:00 PM
Thank you very much David. I tend to write at length, when doing free-verse/prose ... I am happy it holds attention rather than invites snores! Haha...
Date: 4/26/2020 2:59:00 PM
This combination of artful imagery and metaphors captures my imagination and gives me not only food for thought, but also seeds for inspiration for future use, Timothy. That 'campfire' will still be crackling within my mind...long after this poem goes to my favs. ~ Regards // paul
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Timothy Hicks
Date: 4/27/2020 3:09:00 AM
Your comments are always quite thoughtful, Paul ... always a treat to hear what you have to say.
Date: 4/26/2020 11:43:00 AM
Wow! This piece impresses! " ... buried in our haste to dig childhood's grave..." I was enthralled throughout while reading your words...and yes, to me they are magic! This is remarkable and going into my Faves Timothy! I loved it! xxoo
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Timothy Hicks
Date: 4/27/2020 3:08:00 AM
You are very kind, Connie ... thank you!
Date: 4/25/2020 11:55:00 PM
wow... this is deep and thought provoking with too many good lines to quote you on! Good to see you writing again and you really now how to make an entrance my friend...I hope to see more poems from you...it's been a long time! great write! hugs
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Timothy Hicks
Date: 4/27/2020 3:07:00 AM
Thanks again, Sandra!
Date: 4/25/2020 9:15:00 PM
Hey Timothyyyy you're baack!! Awesome write buddy long time no see. Keep em comin!
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Timothy Hicks
Date: 4/27/2020 3:07:00 AM
Thanks John. Glad to be missed (and remembered!) ... lol. I appreciate your visit.
Date: 4/25/2020 7:55:00 PM
wow, Timothy, so deep. Your wordings are so amazing in places where you use imagery so clevely in this piece. In a way I think I know what this is about, but there may be an added layer I do not get. In any event, you are quite the writer, my friend.
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Timothy Hicks
Date: 4/27/2020 2:39:00 AM
Thanks Andrea!
Date: 4/25/2020 1:47:00 PM
You haven’t lost your touch buddy. A pleasure to read. You my friend are proof that magic exists.
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Timothy Hicks
Date: 4/27/2020 2:38:00 AM
That is encouraging, Rick ... I was worried if I might be getting rusty.
Date: 4/25/2020 1:12:00 PM
timothy - i thoroughly enjoyed joining you on this journey of magnificently constructed words and phrases! my favorite is "sputterings of contentment, so softly nestled in each hiss and crack" - wonderful!
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Timothy Hicks
Date: 4/27/2020 2:37:00 AM
Thanks Ilene! Appreciate it...