What is the magical essence
That imbues paper plastic metal
And numbers glowing on a screen
With the ability
To manifest our heart's desire

An idea
A story
Respected by all
Lorded over by mages
In crystal spires

Once you know the game
You can rig it in your favor
And believe you are somehow better
For doing so

You matter more
You are entitled to more

But your self worth
Is inflated by emptiness
And in the end
It will all collapse into nothing

If you claim nothing
Then everything is yours

Gliding gently
Across a serene landscape
All is effortless
All is true

To breathe
Is to transform

sounds sights and scents
a symphony of sublime sensations

and yet my mind spins on
   blunt and cold
       oblivious to
the abounding beauty of creation

subtle moments
   gently forming
kernels of joy
effervescence
   awakening
   tickling
bringing me
   into the now

These Words
why do they convey meaning
how do these shapes create story
while others do not

What is the Spell I fall under
where I see visions
and gain new understandings
what seed of intent is needed
to create this Magic

Pure beams of light
Radiating evenly
In all directions
Giving reliably
Unconditionally
Without question
Of need or merit
True abundance
For us all

the gentle caress
of gentle thoughts
opening the way
to create in the light