to live in.. magic.

 


is it possible to commit myself to instill fairy-like magic in momentary living?

I write this as I gaze at the dried roses hanging from my bulletin board, daintily caressing the tips of my calendar, touched by a glimpse of dear visions and dreams. I’m taking my time to watch the sky colours soften as February’s sun soothingly oozes its friendly beams. it’s a ritual, perhaps unnoticed, a splash of wonder that colours me for timeless moments throughout the day.


time slows down and my attachments to the agendas my mind designs melt into softened grace, carrying me through the brokenness of living with the entirety of a supple heart. observantly, I gaze into masked beauty and envision an inscrutable kind of life— form enlaced in soulful presence, the most pristinely piercing kind of intimacy.


With gratitude, I smile.

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