A Fantasy Poem about Belief and Wonder

Sleeping Magician

The Magician
By Linda A. Copp  

There is a magician,
a wizard, I once knew,
From a far forgotten Land,
And a time much farther, still.

And this he said to me
when I, but as a child,
First stumbled and fell o'er him,
sprawled out, beneath a mighty oak.

Sleeping he, at rest,
His cloak tucked about him,
rumpled, wrapped about his breast.
Dozing upon his magic, wishing hill,
In the darkening, evening chill.

A place, years and miles and dreams,
And worlds beyond your window sill,
Where wishes and wishers go
 to drink and fill.

And I, the Uninvited Guest,
found him, just that way,
Amidst the flowers and the green,
The most enchanted thing I've ever seen.

As he drowsily turned to stare,
at my intrusion there.
The sleepy eyes awakening now,
Drinking in the all of me,
My soul emptying out and touching his.

My heart stopped and yet, so full
of so, very many feelings,
reaching, soaring,

Yet, I stood and gaped
Amazed and transfixed
By his starry gaze,
The aura he had raised.

And even as he looked,
even as he stared.
Even as he prepared to speak,
I already knew, what we two had shared,
And that nothing would be spared,
for I Loved him and he too, cared.
I knew what he would say
And he said it just that way.

"Believe my child, believe.
Believe in you and me.
Believe in fantasy.

Believe in dreams and wonder,
And In castles on distant shores,
And ever opening doors,
Rainbows on the rise,
And loving, laughing eyes.

Believe, and all your wishes will come true,
Your dreams will come to pass.
And when you've believed in all these things,
Then give it all away -
every single day.
For magic's just that way.

Sorceror's Apprentice keeper of the Magician's cloak.
Now, come be my apprentice,
And I will show you enchantments
That were meant to always last,
What waits beyond the hourglass,
the greenest, knolly grass.

Come and listen to me,
Listen, love and learn.
Spread your wings, your colors, your love,
For like a book, pages have to turn,
and candle wax was meant to burn,
Its drippings to amass,
for like moonlight, it must pass,
In order to enlight!
If only late at night.

Take the center of your soul,
that heart you can't control,
And give it to your brother,
your family, friends,
yes, one another.

For whatever else you do,
whatever else you were meant to be,
You were destined to meet me.
Yes, me and the wonder,
and the fantasy.
Here wrap this about you, now."

He took off his velvet cloak,
and even before he spoke,
I knew the meaning of it all.
The tears I had held, began to fall.

"This cloak you mustn't shed,
No matter what's been said,
Or whatever else they may say,
No matter, what's to become of you,
Or the journey you're about to begin.

You must carry my mantle,
cloak and burden.
Now, be still and listen,
For no matter how old you get,
No matter, how tattered,
torn and worn the two of you become,
You must never become -
And you must never, never forget.
For this is yours and yours alone,
To pass on and on and on.
And most especially near your end.

As mine is near at hand, my friend,
For I must go to another kingdom.
So, go my child, go forth and believe,
For it's that time and I must leave.
Follow your heart,
and don't ever forget to love,
For that is what magic's of"

And with that he closed his eyes,
Disappeared to my surprise,
And left me there with starlight all around,
And the new love I had found.

I reached down inside the velvet cloak
As the chill began to descend,
And there within,
in a secret pocket,
I found the map that he had hidden.

I've tried to follow it to this day.
Regardless, of what gets in the way.
Or what other people have to say.

And occasionally, I think I see him,
Smiling in his knowing way,
Behind trees, in Autumn leaves,
late at night, in starlight and the wind,
In places I have been,
And in the warmth of the smiling sun,
And most everything I've done.

Sometimes I know, I fall,
For I am no real Wizard, after all.
I am human, but I believe his words,
And I believe in him.

Wherever, he may be.
I know he watches over me
and the treasure he's passed on to me.

This cloak, his cloak,
Is really nothing else but loving,
And my belief, my dearest friend,
For it leads me back to him.

Whenever the hour is darkest,
Whenever I'm alone,
Whenever I'm afraid,
In choices I have made,
Whenever I see candlelight,
or any kind of light begin to fade,
I grab his cloak about me,
and gather up its strength.

Sometimes I talk out loud to him,
out loud to him at length.
When I'm wearied of the task,
And I think I'll never last,
And I feel, I can't do anymore,
of what he's asked me for,
I huddle in the velvet,
Let my wearied heart spill out,
My doubts, and hurts and shouts!

Oh! I've cried and will again.
But, just when I think,
 I've come to the end,
He fills me up again and again.
And so, I carry on and wait
I see the hour grow late.
For such has become my fate.

Until I see the time
when the poem's lost its rhyme,
And no mountains left to climb,
Then, he will come for me
To take me to that kingdom
Across the starry sea.
And this cloak is passed to you,
To you, my child,
to pass on and on
 and on ...

By Linda A. Copp
©October 1982

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