It’s more fun to believe in magic.
That’s when the beetles come to dance with me.
And under every blade of grass is something fantastic to discover.
Stones rise from the dirt to be seen.
Wood and root curl, peering through leaves, revealing their playful spirits.
And the praying mantis sits beside me to pray.
Praying unto magic.
The air buzzes in response
so that I know it is done,
under a sky slowly turning pink;
and soft rain blesses the ground where I sat
after I have already gone to sleep.