Magic

Her eyes held the lines of a poem

Words that held the story of her soul.

Her smile held the taste of sunshine.

And her words were pure love.

At the end of the day, she’d sigh &

her sigh created a melody, a song

that carried notes of weariness. Tired.

She was tired of carrying all the sadness

that had been deposited in her soul,

she knew how to turn it into music that she

could dance to, carelessly, endlessly.

And that’s how we all came to know

that she was pure magic. Because

even though she was forced to hold

the sun high in the sky and keep it

from falling, she always kept music

playing in her soul.