We carry our magic
in the cupped palms of our hands.
The stream flows regardless.
We carry our magic
in our breath
gently blowing away
carelessly dropped comments.
Barbs to wound are
picked out immaculately
and promptly burned.
We carry our magic
in a kiss resting at the
corner of a mouth
Ready to heal what ails.
We carry our magic.
It is “always as close
as this breath
and this moment.”
The moment we choose
to enter into
And in so doing
we exit the
atmospheric drama
We never called down
only found
having previously been
summoned.
We carry our magic
in our waters
(Whatever your body
we all have waters.)
Capacity for caring
for loving
for transformative
healing.
No need for sticks
on the floor of the forest —
The river flows in you.
Emmeline 