To take a step
Out into the open
For the first time
The sun burning
My dark fed eyes
Fresh with ideas
Dreams, plans, aspirations
A delicate flower
Swaying cautiously
On a summer breeze
Waiting, waiting, waiting
For a violent Autumn wind
To hurl her into hell
Or what could be considered
We know the "obvious"
Or what we call obvious
But what is obvious?
Is it "obvious"
That trees don't sing?
Or that magic isn't real?
Is this considered obvious?
"A rose by any other name
Would smell as sweet,"
Obvious by our standards
Is an illusion
We created it, fed it
Nurtured it until it stood
Straight on its own
We say it is obvious
That trees don't sing
But when sticks
Popped out of the ground
And began sprouting leaves
They probably received the same look
As if they would have sang
People believe in Religion
God, Jesus, Adam, Eve
The Bible, Torah, prayer itself
But how can we say
That Religion exists
And magic does not?
Why one, not the other?
It may be that it is
Easier for us to comprehend
God and heaven, than
To imagine people
Conjuring magic from nowhere
Pulling miracles from their minds
Sprouting wings and flying
But do angels have wings?
Don�t we already fly?
With the invention of the airplane
Man can travel tip to tip
Of this Earth, scrutinizing
Pinpointing new states of "obvious"
In all we cannot explain
If I were to say that A faerie flew in my room
During the night and brought to me
A vision of a magical place
Abundant with sorcery
And secrets from Elves
I would receive an odd glance
The singing trees and myself
Would be exiled to a place
Away from the "obvious"
And their standards of normal
But had I said Angel not faerie
If the place was heaven
They would approve
So my confusion is ongoing
A young flower gaining knowledge
Of the world above ground
Learning not to sway against the wind
Not to sway with the wind
But to stand tall against it
And look upward and out.
