Poetry Text: The Magic Inside

Why do you leave me?
To touch,
To feel,
This magic inside.

This rock I tread on of
Mystical veiled truths.
This hope I still keep buried inside,
Driving me mad in dreams
Of jumbled tales.

My heart talks in hazy maybes
And might be.
Craving something within.
Above are tell-tale signs of the
Afternoon clouds.

I wish you were here- who?
I wish I had a full grasp of me- who?
Staring into the open beyond, hoping,
Needing and wanting.
I wish you were whole- me.
I wish and I sense
That you are growing
And soon will be thriving-me.

To touch, to feel
This magic inside

Here in bushy country the brown bird
Sings the song of hello,
And goodbye.
I in muted wonder
And amaze
Ask deep in my heart-
Why do I yearn for you?

I neither amaze nor surprise,
I know not the deep pools
That holds within
So deep my yearning.
Nor the farthest hill,
Nor the hidden caves
That my heart seeks to explore.
I am bereft of the mysteries that amaze.

To touch, to feel
This magic inside.
This magic that sings out melodies
Of the gates to the next life
Only magical tales retell,
And that puzzling dream revealed,
Of conviction that is steadily sprouting.

A voice once echoed to me as I gently dreamt-
..Child you sing,
You sing and you create
The magic inside…
Yet that song is steadily growing,
Thriving within me
Inside my heart.

Sky blue,
Sky clouded.
Heart no longer blue,
Mysteries untold.
Sometimes shapes hover in the sky,
Sometimes there are none.
Sometimes the sunrise
Weaves the traveller’s longing
In hues of purples and crimson.

Within the serenity I contemplate,
Amidst chaotic
But organised day to day rituals.
Where the cow mumbles moo
In chained, cart isolation.
Dust, rocky walks
Under sunny paradise,
Songs thought of in solitude.

…Sweet whirlwind
Don’t raise the dust over my head…!

To touch, to feel
This magic inside

Starry sky, moon,
Shooting star,
Yellow moon.
Twinkling lamps
Lights the darkness blanket.
Bereft of colour
Yet this mind makes colours
All on its own.

In phantom colours of purple
I sing a song of hello.
In reply to the little bird
Of the mysteries untold.
Take me for short a time,
The traveller in me yearns to see,
To hear and to breathe
The magic within the mysteries.

I ask deeply-
Are you my fated one?
I ask deeply-
Does the heart deceive?
Will I eventually stop asking?
-Why do you leave me?
To touch, to feel
This magic inside-

A voice once echoed to me as I gently dreamt
..Child you sing, you sing
And you create the magic inside…
Yet that song is steadily growing,
Thriving within me,
Inside my heart.
Take my hand
©Barbra Zimema Anderson


A writer, a designer, a thinker, a lover, a fighter, a curious person of sorts.

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