You mock formidable locks,
Then throw heavy doors open;
Sunbeams wash in where dark spells swayed,
And somewhere a bird sings,
Were they even real - those tricks wicked whispers played?

You are the soul of endless songs,
You lay traps where clever artists fall;
Dare a third person declare you devious,
You are the very meaning of a good fairy's wand.

You hide from the crowd in plain sight,
While I unravel every little flash and inflection;
I immerse in your language,
And we exchange playground secrets in childly delight;
Yes, I become a child - it's a choice and I trade,
To enter your mystery world with light steps,
The baggage of gathered wisdom I leave behind.

And there, somewhere, while the act plays,
A wise man smiles and he says,
'Such it has always been -
To give yourself to new eyes, you must first turn blind.'