The Magic of Hope, Part I

Mystical Illusions Photography - Gazing On the River
The Magic of Hope, Part I
by Michael Doyle

In all of the hustled hassle
Of a snow-blanketed sense of season
Life is oft lived like an air-castle
Filled with whimsy decorated with reason

A good Christmas is worked upon
And not just a state-of-mind
Just as soon approached as gone
While one more year is left behind

Even children feel it, walking in nightmare
Too busy to take their special part
Having half-forgotten why it is to care
Absent those things best kept in the heart

Let's not forget that the universe is made of story
Certainly not only those things like atomic particles
There is is in the half missed blessing of true glory
Or at least I have read so in dusted-off articles

The magic of snow somehow twinkles in
Children begin to cozy up as the story begins
A story tells its beginning set in Nordic forest
When a young boy begins his sacred quest

Danger it seems lurks quietly everywhere
Yet crisis is adverted by just missing a bear
While times are so hard as making ends meet
Is best met with bravery and on one's feet

Not so long ago in a place not unlike this
There lived a girl, the kind you wouldn't want to miss
One day wandering in woods and under the silver moon
It wasn't long before she became as lost as her tune

Through the shadowing skies she whistled and walked
Skipping past cotton soft clouds and with giants she talked
Keeping herself as her own truest and best company
Until she found a secret village where sought sympathy

Elftown, in which lived all the most magical of elves
And who kept all of their magic bottled on top shelves
Each day was a day filled with the most wonderful happiness
Filled with their moments, blessed with purity and bliss

Believing as it is, is often as good as all of the knowing
Especially when nestled inside, while outside it is snowing
A noise is heard an undecided sort of a timid squeak
With these floorboards, it might as well have been a creak

A gentle reminder comes to foster half-forgotten belief
Speaking without words, yet somehow offering relief
There is in belief in doing, the taking of us half the way there
Until cheerful and brave, our destination draws near

Truth is there is no one so poor as those who somehow forget
The last time they've smiled and only live to recall their regret
The miserable, as always, take great pleasure in tortured company
Yet, hope is the spark to keep going on, on the vapors of empty

Two kind words are all some ever really need to wistfully hear
Like a warm memory that helps the meek to hold on and persevere
This then is the incentive to hang on the end of the rope
And start the journey to reclaim the magic of hope

(c) December 10, 2021 Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved
Mystical Illusions Photography - A Frozen Bridge Too Far

About alohapromisesforever

Writer, poet, musician, surfer, father of two princesses.
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