Yes, a walk outside, in the sun, in the woods, with the air and the leaves and the dust and the trees. Its own brand of magic, inspiring, full. Rapturous, too, on a good day. Nature the mage, writing magical tomes, hidden to shadow, still willing to shine.
It does burst through you know, when least expected. A shimmer in the corner of the eye, caught in focus, invited to grow, to clear, to set a path. All preplanned, the weight of it, weightless, swinging side to side, the scales upset until all disappears. Sleight of hand and mind unburden the heart as thoughts slip from grasp. And you’re free. It is, can’t you tell, all a dream.
