Magic in the Mundane

There lies a magic in the mundane,
A leaf dancing in an invisible breeze,
Awaking to the symphony of bird song,
An unusual twist in the trunk of a tree,
The feel of sand beneath your feet,
A smile from a stranger.

The magic is everywhere, all of the time.
What stops you from seeing it?

Source: Santuario, Ana Maria (2022). A Journey of Subtraction. Faith in Change Publishing, London.

Quick Access to more of our author’s beautiful poetry:

Click to be taken to the poem, Everything and Nothing.
Click to be taken to the poem, The Masks I Wear.
Click to be taken to the poem, What Are You?
Click to be taken to the poem, No Thing?

Every poem in the library can be downloaded as a poster to hang in your home, by your desk, or to fold up and keep close:

Far away is reality…

Reality is a concept, a discoverable, ever-expanding concept, better defined by mathematic equation than language. Language decorates life, rather than defines it, for fluid, flexible concepts stand still in math and science, yet appear to awaken conflict when language opposes language. Mathematics is a universal language, perhaps when that defines life and becomes explicable via the tongue, in poetry, story and song, perhaps then we shall find peace among us.

Using faith to define reality is nothing but a guessing game, for faith relies upon a definition so utterly changing and evolving, that to believe it as the ultimate truth is a fools game. To believe your own definition of life without question is ignorance in human form. Do animals need to define their life, provide it with meaning beyond its own existing form? Does life need a reason to be, or can it simply be treasured, cultivated and harnessed towards good?

Life is the magic, an invisible breeze proves it so… from where does it come? Why is it there, touching your skin, brushing against your heart’s curious nature? From where does the rain fall? Yes, scientific minds have created their own faith, their own stories, making sense of the world is their full time job, but how about admitting to reality, that nobody knows anything, to know, is to play at assuming your stories will not ever change, when history, my dear friends, tells us otherwise… fully, completely, and totally…

And if one thing is for certain, these stories you all cling to today, in 1000 years, shall be studied as an ancient way of life… one day, too soon for the finite mind, you will become ancient history, as too will your civilisations and societies… now how’s that for dispelling a story or two?

Poetry added monthly to Ana Maria’s blog

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