Power

She always called you ‘Magic’

for the power she did not see.

You thought the power would help you grow;

you thought it would set you free.

            It was the power that made you cross that bridge,

            but you used it and did not fall.

            You saw the gift the power could give,

            though it wasn’t your freedom at all.

It was a gift of knowing –

a way to see –

the knowledge that you’d never know

a last reality.

            The world is full of secrets –

            Mysteries fill the air.

            It makes no difference what you do;

            your death is always there.

The results don’t really matter;

you act as you know you must.

Through everything you do or say,

your death is all you can trust.

            Though, in a way, the power sets you free.

            For it’s the power that gives you the sight

            to see the varied paths of life,

            and pick the one that’s right.

And many will call you ‘Magic’,

for the power they cannot see.

You know the power can help you grow,

for it’s the power that lets you see.