Spell

A poem

This is magic
There are words:
Spoken, uttered, chanted
In a hiss or a dialect
In a prayer, in a song
There’s intent, emotional weight
Not the sort from a dispute
More the species that inhabits
A sincere emotion, the stronger the better
Love, for instance
Or forgiveness
I can speak it
Form the words in my head
The same cave my brain is trapped in
Watching the projection against the wall
Shapeless shadows perpetually playing
I’ll send the image, and the words
Out into the world
Conjure them, to manifest before me
Even if I can’t see it
Channeling creation to my bidding
As gods once commanded us to

I’ll say these words:
I know, I always knew
I figured it out
And it’s okay
It’s all good, water under the bridge
There’s no swimming upstream
To retrieve a mistake
No matter how grievous
I’m not sure I have the fortitude
To measure my worth
Against a standard
Where I’m not at least a little bitter
A slight grudge, a smidgen sour
I am human, after all
Let that stand as the extent of this conflict
It will fade
A wee smudge, that gives the tale character
One where moments of joy
Aren’t such brief gasps of air
In a turbid churn
Incessantly attempting to drown us
Far better, to let life flow
Without the addition of ballast
To pull us below

What was spoken will find the ears
Of those meant to hear
And let them breathe again
Dissolve the burden crooking their back
To say more is anathema
To explain magic is to ruin
Part of what makes it work

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