poems

Tuscan Magic

 

Call it Tuscan magic.

Whether or not it’s real doesn’t matter.

If it gets into your head

It takes root and grows.

 

The mind sends messages to the brain

It has never before received.

Like a warm bath

And a gentle massage,

Tuscany soothes the soul.

 

It creeps in through the eyes,

The ears, and every other sense.

It seeps in through the pores.

Soon it is you, and you are absorbed,

Like water sinking into sand.

 

It is as natural as rain and sunshine,

Day and night, stars and the moon.

No need to think about it.

It has always been,

And always will be.

 

Time moves in different directions,

Sometimes making U-turns

On the clock and calendar,

But never losing focus.

 

Just as moisture from above

You join the flow of the stream.

Your tenure may fade and disappear;

But for a moment you were part of it,

You knew that connection,

That fusion.

****

Advertisements
Standard