She asked me how
I practiced magic
so I told her that I saw it
that morning while she slept
watching the rise and fall of her chest
that the real magic was seeing the
miraculous in the most mundane
hearing that music in the silence
feeling all the wildness in the stillness
in the gray of the early morning
seeing her in all of the colors with no names.
– spiritwolf
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Spiritwolf
dreamer, writer, explorer, creative, critical thinker, maker of my own reality. part left - part right brained, often found out chasing fish, the moon, music, muse... the magical, mystical and metaphysical, art, travel, foodndranks, my pack, beauty, the light and the dark, adventures, the arcane, the strange and profane...
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