I am magic.
I shift and change from thing to thing
One moment I’m an angel with wings
The next a panther running towards
My prey, seizing life and freedom
Feet stamping on dirt and wooden boards.
Sometimes I’m known as Ariel
Sometimes as a harpy or a witch.
I’m a bird soaring across dells
And a pixie playing in a muddy ditch.
I’m earth and fire, water and wind,
Sexiness and awkwardness,
Hope and sin
At times it is confusing
And I hide away inside
Scared off by feared abusing
Of the power that resides
Within and shines without
(When you let it).
I’m hurt but I’m alive,
I’m happy yet also lonely,
I’m everything from time to time,
Freed, or chained up in a moment.
I have days when I am wise
And salad days, green with naivety
But that’s the bittersweetness shared
By my baseness and beauty.
Filed under: Poetry, Writing Tagged: ariel, magic, poem, poetry, primal self
