Magic can be found,

In the present,

Or the past. …

Looking back,

At memories that rewind,

I am surprised, …

To fit seamlessly,

Within my surrounding,

Was seldom easy. …

Curious yet unafraid,

The lamas drew near,

As they walked by. …

To open up,

Let the world see,

Who I am, …

To live in the mountains,

A village or by a lake.

A seeming quandary, …

I like to watch birds,

Land on the ledge,

Flap their wings, …

Colorful flowers,

Adorning balconies,

Are pleasing and inviting. …

There are those,

Who thrive and grow,

In the hard and dry, …

Desired,

Predictable days,

Feel safe. …

For many years,

What I saw I believed,

Until I began to perceive, …

I like to lose myself,

In unknown cities,

Walking along streets, …

When doors appear,

That gently entice,

I have learned, …

In earlier times,

Studying history,

Was a bore. …

“How will in find the key,

To unlock her heart”,

I asked. …

Today,

I can no longer,

Climb a tree. …

It somehow feels,

Things from the past,

Last. …

The man sat in silence,

Gazing at the tree.

“If I were you, …

Traveling is a gift.

But it is returning home,

Where the garden grows, …

To be covered by growth,

So as not to be seen,

Left peacefully alone, …