The Breath of Magic Options

[LadyEvergreen865]

The Breath of Magic

Before the sundering, when Life fell new
from the World tree as golden and ripe
as new pears unbruised by the first fall,
magic walked openly in the land.

As the Elves of Auldenglen hold true
the Book of Days, they write of a time
when peace and safety were shared by all:
One Land---many voices:
where the language of beasts and man,
forest and sea, fire and wind,
and all living things wove its pattern
of understanding and fellowship into
one fabric, one dance,
One Tree....

And Magic was the life's blood of that Tree.

To speak of magic, be not deceived.
All that is called by magic’s name is not
magic, nor the Voice that sets it free.

For shadow now walks the Land,
yielding neither clarity nor vision:
true pathways that once divided
dark from light, truth from deception,
now hide in mist upon unstable ground,
forgotten or forsaken.

Dark are the empty places of the world
full of promises and false hopes!
Hear their voices chanting---
the rage of wind, fire, water and stone;
the division of stars and moons---
they seek visions and brew herbs;
they ground bones and seek power
where none who are wise dare
to summon or look thereon.

Honest folk seek knowledge---
an offer of comfort, the touch of
healing when hope falls away....

Others, whether foolish or bold,
spiteful or careless, stray too far
into the dark.......lost!

Each in their own way hunger
for that one precious moment
when magic comes alive in their hand,
called by their will
harnessed and channeled
into whatever they please.

They are deceived.

For true magic seeks neither glory nor power
of its own. Those who seek it, find it not;
Those who would bend it to their will--fail.

Ask first, is this the cloth of life that springs
fulfilled from the heart of the world? Or poor
withered things stirred by spiteful craft into
winter's bitter brew? To heal or curse? Or
hide in shame?

What of power and fame? Can you summon
hope from a magician's hat? Or coax love from
a human heart sprinkled with rosemary and sage?
I say to you, Beware! Magic is true and holds much
more than this!

Feel the wind, cool to comfort when the day is warm.
Is magic the wind? The touch that whispers healing balm?
Or rather the heart that leaps within us, laughing with joy
at the dance of heaven's first breath enfolding.

See rather a seed, dying.
How cold lays Death's cradle! Crude soil beneath our palm!
And yet, the first touch of sunlight withstands
even Death's strongest lock; but who turns the key?

Is it the sun? Magic seeks its own fire.
Will you find it there? No, friend. Nor in the fragil
casings of that withered frond; but in life itself,
responding to another's Will...breaking free!

The Word spoken, fovever searching for that one
place that welcomes Life and Love and Peace,
never returns empty or lifeless, but fulfilled
unto the purpose for which it was sent.

Find the Voice and you will find the key; and live!
Seek magic in the One who sets you free; and live again!


For until Fear knew its name, all was well with the world.
Be still, and listen....and you will find the Voice.
Therein, magic sleeps. Awaken!

[Guest_Nina_*]

Hi ladyevergreen

A philosophical and very different look at magic.

A few thoughts for you to use or reject as you wish.

[add] {delete} comment

The Breath of Magic

Before the sundering,[]when Life fell new
from the World tree[,] {as} golden and ripe
as new pears, unbruised by the first fall,
magic walked openly in the land.

As the Elves of Auldenglen hold ture ...do you mean true?
the Book of Days, writ[es]{ing} of a time
when peace and safety {was}[were] offered to all:
One Land with many voices where
the language [of] beast{s} and man, {of} forest
and sea, {of} fire and wind, {and} all living
things wove its pattern of understanding
and fellowship into one fabric, one dance,
One Tree.

{And} {m}[M]agic was {the} life's blood {that fed}[feeding] that Tree.

To speak of magic, be not deceived.
All that is called by magic’s name is not
magic, nor the Voice that sets us free.

For shadow now walks the Land,
yielding neither clarity nor vision:
the true pathways that once
divided {the} dark from {the} light,
{the} true from {the} false
now hide in mist upon unstable ground,
forgotten or forsaken.

Dark {the} empty places of the world
full of promises and false hope:
they call on wind[,] {and} fire, water and stone;
they call on stars and moon, they seek
visions and brew herbs; they ground bones
and seek power where none who are wise
dare to look thereon.

[Some] {H}[h]onest folk {are some,} seek{ing} knowledge
to help and aide; to heal and offer comfort
when hope falls away....

Others, whether foolish or bold, spiteful
or careless, stray too far into the dark
and are lost....

And yet, each in their own way hunger for
that one precious moment when magic
comes alive in their hand, called by their will
to be harnessed and channeled wherever
they please.

{And} {t}[T]hey are deceived.

For true magic seeks neither glory nor power
of its own. Those who seek it, find it not;
Those who would bend it to their will--fail.

Ask first, is this the cloth of life that springs
fulfilled from the heart of the world? Or poor
withered things stirred by spiteful craft into
winter's bitter brew? To heal or curse? Or
hidden deeds covered in shame?

{And} {w}[W]hat of power and fame? Can you summon
hope from a magician's hat? Or coax love from
a human heart with a sprinkle of rosemary and sage?
I say to you, Beware! Magic is true and holds much
more than this!

Feel the wind, cool {to} comfort when the day is warm.
Is magic the wind? The touch that whispers healing balm?
Or {rather} the heart that leaps within us, laughing {in}[with] joy
at the dance of heaven's first breath enfolding.

See {rather} a seed, dying.
How cold lays Death's craddle! Crude soil beneath our palm!
{And} {y}[Y]et, the first touch of sunlight withstands
even Death's strongest lock. But who turns the key?

Is it the sun? Magic seeks its own fire.
Will you find it there? No, friend{.}[;] {N}[n]or in the fragil[e]
casings of that whithered frond. But in life itself,
responding to another's Will. Breaking Free!

The Word spoken, fovever searching for that one
place that welcomes Life[,] {and} Love and Peace,
never returns empty or lifeless, but fulfilled
unto the purpose for which it was sent.

Find the Voice and you will find the key. And live!
Seek magic in the One who sets you free.
And live again!

For until Fear knew its name, all was well with the world.
Be still, {and} listen....and you will find the Voice.
Therein, magic sleeps. Awaken!

I hope some of this helps

Nina

[LadyEvergreen865]

Nina,
Thanks so much for all your helpful tips and corrections. I wrote this late at night and had to leave much of the editing for today. (Sunday) With your help, it was a lot easier. :D Hope you enjoyed the 'magical' journey. Not sure where I'm going with this one....thought I'd branch out a little and maybe write a story using the beginning and some of the rest. We'll see. Never know where the muse is going to lead us, do we? Take care, Elaine

[Guest_Nina_*]

Hi Elaine

My pleasure.  I'm glad my suggestions were helpful.  Yes, I enjoyed the magical journey you took me on, very different from the magic one normally thinks about (Harry Potter version).

It sounds like an excellent idea to take some of what you've written and expand it into a story.  I hope if you do, that you'll post in stonehenge.

Very true we never know where the muse is going to lead us.

Take care

Nina

[Guest_Cathy_*]

Lady Evergreen,

I love the world of magic that you have created!

{omit}[add]

Before the sundering, when Life fell new
from the World tree as golden {and} ripe
as new pears, unbruised by {the} first fall,
magic walked openly in the land.

As the Elves of Auldenglen hold true  Is this a fairytale?
the Book of Days, they write of a time  "Book of Days" - does that maybe refer to a calendar?
when peace and safety were shared by all:
One Land[,] {with} many voices--
where the language of beasts and man,
{of} forest and sea, {of} fire and wind,
and all living things[--] wove its pattern
of understanding and fellowship into
one fabric, one dance,
One Tree....

{And} Magic was the life's blood of that Tree.

To speak of magic, be not deceived[;]{.}
[a]ll that is called by magic’s name is not
magic, nor the Voice that sets it free.

For shadow[s] now walk{s} the Land,
yielding neither clarity nor vision:
{the} true pathways that once
divided both the dark from {the} light,
and {the} true from {the} false
now hide in mist upon unstable ground,
forgotten or forsaken.

Dark are the empty places of the world
full of promises and false hope; "Promises" is plural, shouldn't "hope" be "hopes"?
{they} call on wind, fire, water and stone;
{they call on} stars and moon, they seek
visions and brew herbs; they ground bones
and seek power where none who are wise
dare to look thereon.

{Some} [H]onest folk seek knowledge
to offer comfort and healing
when hope falls away....

Others, whether foolish or bold, spiteful
or careless, stray too far into the dark[;]
{and are} lost....

{And yet,} [E]ach in their own way hunger
for that one precious moment when magic
comes alive in their hand, called by their will[,]
to be harnessed and channeled wherever
they please.

They are deceived.

For true magic seeks neither glory nor power
of its own. Those who seek it, find it not;
Those who would bend it to their will--fail.

Ask first, is this the cloth of life that springs
fulfilled from the heart of the world? Or poor
withered things stirred by spiteful craft into
winter's bitter brew? To heal or curse? Or
hide in shame?

What of power and fame? Can you summon
hope from a magician's hat? Or coax love from
a human heart with {a} sprinkle of rosemary and sage?
I say to you, Beware! Magic is true and holds much
more {than this}!

Feel the wind, cool to comfort when {the} day is warm.
Is magic the wind? The touch that whispers healing balm?
Or rather the heart that leaps within us, laughing with joy
at the dance of heaven's first breath enfolding.

See rather a seed, dying.
How cold lays Death's crad{d}le! Crude soil beneath our palm!
And yet, the first touch of sunlight withstands
even Death's strongest lock[;]{.} But who turns the key?

Is it the sun? Magic seeks its own fire.
Will you find it there? No, friend. Nor in the fragil[e]
casings of that w{h}ithered frond[;]{.} but in life itself,
responding to another's Will[;]{.} breaking Free!

The Word spoken, fovever searching {for} that one
place that welcomes Life[,] {and} Love and Peace,
never returns empty or lifeless, but fulfilled
unto the purpose for which it was sent.

Find the Voice and you will find the key[;]{.} [a]nd live!
Seek magic in the One who sets you free[;]{.}
[a]nd live again!

For until Fear knew its name, all was well with the world.
Be still, and listen....and you will find the Voice.
Therein, magic sleeps. Awaken!

Before the sundering, when Life fell new
from the World tree as golden ripe
as new pears, unbruised by first fall,
magic walked openly in the land.

As the Elves of Auldenglen hold true
the Book of Days, they write of a time
when peace and safety were shared by all:
One Land, many voices--
where the language of beasts and man,
forest and sea, fire and wind,
and all living things -- wove its pattern
of understanding and fellowship into
one fabric, one dance,
One Tree....

Magic was the life's blood of that Tree.

To speak of magic, be not deceived;
all that is called by magic’s name is not
magic, nor the Voice that sets it free.

For shadows now walk the Land,
yielding neither clarity nor vision:
true pathways that once
divided both the dark from light,
true from false
now hide in mist upon unstable ground,
forgotten or forsaken.

Dark are the empty places of the world
full of promises and false hopes;
call on wind, fire, water and stone;
stars and moon, they seek
visions and brew herbs; they ground bones
and seek power where none who are wise
dare to look thereon.

Honest folk seek knowledge
to offer comfort and healing
when hope falls away....

Others, whether foolish or bold, spiteful
or careless, stray too far into the dark;
lost....

Each in their own way hunger
for that one precious moment when magic
comes alive in their hand, called by their will,
to be harnessed and channeled wherever
they please.

They are deceived.

For true magic seeks neither glory nor power
of its own. Those who seek it, find it not;
Those who would bend it to their will--fail.

Ask first, is this the cloth of life that springs
fulfilled from the heart of the world? Or poor
withered things stirred by spiteful craft into
winter's bitter brew? To heal or curse? Or
hide in shame?

What of power and fame? Can you summon
hope from a magician's hat? Or coax love from
a human heart with sprinkle of rosemary and sage?
I say to you, Beware! Magic is true and holds much
more!

Feel the wind, cool to comfort when day is warm.
Is magic the wind? The touch that whispers healing balm?
Or rather the heart that leaps within us, laughing with joy
at the dance of heaven's first breath enfolding.

See rather a seed, dying.
How cold lays Death's cradle! Crude soil beneath our palm!
And yet, the first touch of sunlight withstands
even Death's strongest lock; but who turns the key?

Is it the sun? Magic seeks its own fire.
Will you find it there? No, friend. Nor in the fragile
casings of that withered frond; but in life itself,
responding to another's Will... breaking Free!

The Word spoken, fovever searching that one
place that welcomes Life, Love and Peace,
never returns empty or lifeless, but fulfilled
unto the purpose for which it was sent.

Find the Voice and you will find the key; and live!
Seek magic in the One who sets you free;
and live again!

For until Fear knew its name, all was well with the world.
Be still, and listen....and you will find the Voice.
Therein, magic sleeps. Awaken!

I thought some tightening would give it a stronger impact.  Of course feel free to ignore if you don't agree.  lol

Cathy

[LadyEvergreen865]

:D Thanks Cathy! And yes, this is the beginning of what I intend to develope into a story (Fantasy/Fairytale). Still needs work. I'm already trimming and pruning. And with your kind help, I can now see the forest through the trees. Or is it trees through the forest? Again, thanks for the help. Take care: Elaine

[Guest_Toumai_*]

Hi Elaine,

What a wonderful, lyrical, dreamy tale of magic and life. It has a lovely, magical feel to read.

I think my favourite stanza is

To speak of magic, be not deceived.
All that is called by magic’s name is not
magic, nor the Voice that sets it free.

I shall very much look forward to your story.

Fran

[Cleo_Serapis]

Hi Elaine.

Such a mystical, magical piece! Reminds of the Lord of the Rings books, good verses evil through magic. I enjoyed this very much!

I've made some comments below for you to ponder.  :sun:

{delete} [add]

Before the sundering, when Life fell {new} [fresh]
from the World tree[,] {as} golden and ripe
as new pears unbruised by the first fall,
magic walked openly in the land.

As the Elves of Auldenglen hold true
the Book of Days, they write of a time
when peace and safety were shared by all:
One Land---many voices:
where the language of beasts and man,
forest and sea, fire and wind,
and all living things wove its pattern
of understanding and fellowship into
one fabric, one dance,
One Tree....  

And Magic was the life's blood of that Tree. (very magical opening)

To speak of magic, be not deceived.
All that is called by magic’s name is not
magic, nor the Voice that sets it free.

For shadow now walks the Land,  (do you need to capitalize Shadow? )
yielding neither clarity nor vision:
{true} [dutiful] pathways that once divided
dark from light, truth from deception,
now hide in mist upon unstable ground,
forgotten or forsaken. ( a scary thought as the powers of good v. evil develop)

Dark are the empty places of the world
full of promises and false hopes!
Hear their voices chanting---
the rage of wind, fire, water and stone;
the division of stars and moons---
they seek visions and brew herbs;
they {ground} [grind] bones and seek power
where none who are wise dare
to summon or look thereon.

{Honest} [Honorable] folk seek knowledge---
an offer of comfort, the touch of
healing when hope falls away....

Others, whether foolish or bold,
spiteful or careless, stray too far
into the dark.......lost! (into the ‘sinister’ ? )

Each in their own way hunger
for that one precious moment
when magic comes alive in their hand,
called by their will[;]
harnessed and channeled
into whatever they please.

They are deceived.

For true magic seeks neither
glory nor power of its own.
Those who seek it, find it not;
Those who would bend it
to their will--fail.  (re-arranged line lengths)

Ask first, is this the cloth of life
that springs fulfilled from the heart
of the world? Or poor withered things
stirred by spiteful craft into winter's
bitter brew? To heal or curse?
Or hide in shame? (re-arranged line lengths)

What of power and fame?
Can you summon hope from
a magician's hat? Or coax love from
a human heart sprinkled with
rosemary and sage?
I say to you, Beware!
Magic is true and holds much
more than this! (re-arranged line lengths)

Feel the wind, cool to comfort
when the day is warm.
Is magic the wind?
The touch that whispers healing balm?
Or rather the heart that leaps
within us, laughing with joy
at the dance of heaven's first
breath enfolding. (re-arranged line lengths)

See rather a seed, dying.
How cold lays Death's cradle!
Crude soil beneath our palm!
And yet, the first touch of sunlight
withstands even Death's strongest
lock; but who turns the key? (re-arranged line lengths)

Is it the sun? Magic seeks its own fire.
Will you find it there? No, friend.
Nor in the fragil casings of (typo – fragile)
that withered frond; but in life itself,
responding to another's Will...
breaking free!  (re-arranged line lengths)

The Word spoken, fovever (typo – forever) searching
for that one place that welcomes Life
and Love and Peace,
never returns empty or lifeless,
but fulfilled unto the purpose
for which it was sent.  (re-arranged line lengths)

Find the Voice and you will find
the key; and live!
Seek magic in the One who
sets you free; and live again! (re-arranged line lengths)


For until Fear knew its name,
all was well with the world.
Be still, and listen....
and you will find the Voice.
Therein, magic sleeps.
Awaken!  (re-arranged line lengths)

~Cleo  :pharoah2