Magic, magic everywhere!

Survival on Earth

Here’s a contribution of mine for NaPoWriMo. I figured I should be writing at least one poem for it, if not participating.

Magic is everywhere

There is magic everywhere:
In the breath that you take and draw out;
The way the air doesn’t get lost
Into one of the million confusing pipes inside.

There is magic everywhere:
In the way your miniscule brain muscles
Along with the larger ones, work in sync,
Like a flawlessly programmed machine.

You can see magic everywhere!
There’re pores that absorb water from the dirt,
Tiny capillaries that fight the Earth’s pull,
And send water high up, towards the leaves.

This world is a truly magical place;
For, the word ‘fall’ makes sense here
‘Cause of a spell binding things to the Earth’s centre;
A spell called ‘gravity’ by the witch, Mother Nature.

The place we live is magical as hell
For, it gave us feelings, good and bad,
Taught us morals – the ones to be followed
To get to heaven.

The Earth isn’t magical alone!
The warm sunrays that reach our skin,
The bright light that makes our eyes scrunch up
Is unearthly magic indeed.

The place where we live is magical, really.
Where certain things can float away in the air, without a care
Like the souls who’ve found their peace.
It is a magical place, indeed.

A dream come true…


It was the time when the last vestiges of dark decided to flee on seeing the sanguine rays of the sun; it was the time when the streetlamps were still glowing despite the appearance of the sunrays, and the city that resembled a beast at day, was actually asleep.

The air was fresh, and she took a deep breath as her legs pedalled on. She cycled through the transparent mist, like a free bird gliding across the ocean. She was taken to DreamWorld completely, and the surrealism of it all made her eyes wide.

The clean street was lined with streetlamps, providing their dull orange glow to the day, telling her it was all a dream. And this dream of hers was punctuated by reality as now and again, a few lamps went missing from the oh-so-consistent line.

And in those gaps of reality that seeped through, the sun rays painted the place with warmth even as chilly winds of the late night kept blowing at her. Something told her reality could be nothing like this.

As she entered a narrow alley which wasn’t yet blessed by the warm rays of the sun, she hit the brakes and got down. The rows of houses that adorned the street were enveloped in a thin sheet of dust. A few green plants grew everywhere, and she clasped her tiny hands and cast her sight heavenwards.

“Oh, this place cannot just be real,” she said. “It looks as if I’ve entered a world I’d never visited before.”

And then came the voice from heaven: “This is what early morning feels like, my child.”

An alley early in the morning

Exotic Italy! 🙂