Magic of Spirits

It has some kind of magic or science to be precise. Unholy, immoral and wicked they say; but holy, moral and virtuous I cry.

Aware of each and every muscle, nerve and flowing cell. Closed my eyes, stared at the skies and left my body somewhere.

I saw stars and nebulae and worlds full of life. “Oh ! my brothers, you miss so much; It is the most magical sight.”

And suddenly before me a ball of fire, a shinning star, I seen before. “Is this what I think it is ?” aghast, alarmed and awestruck; nothing but a speck of dust.

My brothers and sisters from worlds unknown pleaded me to stay, “Play some more.”

“Avast ! my mother awaits” I said “must return, no time to spare” and so my weary soul slid through a hole. Closing my eyes again saw a similar sight.

And as the sun rose, struggling through the clouds, I saw my spirit lifted giving a reason to fight.

This is the magic of spirits, this you cannot deny. On many lonely nights, embracing the spirits, I let myself fly.

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