Magic – for dVerse

The old magic
carried the scent of herbs,
and blood,
and woodsmoke. It furled
pale fingers round
distant hearts, coiled
its shimmering length
round lovers, twined
breath and death, into
slow darkness.

This new magic
shines and glistens,
pings and tings,
snaps. It moves fast,
flickering
electric sparks,
fizzing blue lights –
it slings itself
around the globe,
whirring into space.

We gaze, jaw-dropped,
reaching out our monkey paws,
touching the shiny,
discarding that old
smell haunted stuff,
that lizard brain stuff,
that visceral, polysensual stuff,
stretching our brains
into new conformations,
feeding our eyes

and yet, that old magic
lingers, in a whiff of
leafmould, mouth-scent
of rose, that waft of something
that takes you back
to your mother’s mirror,
a kitchen somewhere.

We are earth
water fire
air
we are electric
we are atomic
we are the magic.

 

For Paul Scribbles, at dVerse, who is asking for something magical tonight…

22 thoughts on “Magic – for dVerse

  1. Your first sentence (4 lines) hooked me hard–OMG /the scent of herbs, and blood and woodsmoke/–wordsmithing to the max. The new magic is fodder for our kids–the old magic seems even more essential as the years pass; but it is important to remember that as youth, our magic was not yet old, just bold.

    Like

  2. beautifully done, Sarah! I especially enjoyed the lines:
    ‘…coiled
    its shimmering length
    round lovers, twined
    breath and death, into
    slow darkness’
    and
    ‘…yet, that old magic
    lingers, in a whiff of
    leafmould, mouth-scent
    of rose, that waft of something
    that takes you back
    to your mother’s mirror’.

    Like

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