As I kid, I loved
Going to the fair and the circus
But the most anticipated
Was the act of the magician
The black robe and the colourful cape
My childish glee at the daring escapades
The awe-inspiring flair
And the exaggerated manners
Call it sleight of hand
Or an optical illusion
The show was a complete delight
In my otherwise bland life
The rabbit in the hat
The disappearing act
The floating ghost lady
And the act of Houdini
The price of growing up
Is the knowing loss of innocence
And disbelief in all things
Magical and mysterious
It takes wisdom to understand
That magic is implicit
In everyday reality
In common sense and sensibility
The flowers that bloom
The sweet songs of the brook
Glorious dawns and dusks
And the twinkling stars
The mysteries of the universe
The words penned by a poet
The colours that drip from a painter’s brush
And springs first blush
The eternally optimistic hope
Unwilling to give up
And the perseverance of the human spirit
Are a joyous mystery and delightfully magical
Bio
Seema Ahira, A cup or a few cups of coffee, a book in my hand, sunshine above and a gentle summer breeze all around is my kind of perfect day. I am not a prolific writer and write only when moved by the invisible hand of my emotions. I have a deep appreciation for all forms of art. “Art is indeed Tapasya” and often has the effect of bringing great joy and humility in its purest form.
In my day-to-day life, I enjoy cooking, watching mysteries and thrillers on TV and wish that I have more than 24 hours in a day.
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