When the Clock Chimes Dusk

When I was a child

I would pretend the world was magic.

I would pick up a paintbrush

and paint light across the sky

when the clock chimed dusk.

Fluffy clouds magically became unicorns

galloping toward the sun.

As the moon said hello

I would dance in glitter

hanging starlight in the dark.

A blade of grass became a woodwind

in the symphony of tweeting pianos

and cricket violins.

And as my 38th trip around the sun approaches

I realize the magic

of holding onto such childlike wonders.

For I have witnessed the souls

that somehow lost the magic

along the way.

The souls that fail to see the beauty

in a crickets song

the glitter in the dark

and the human spirit in anyone

who fades into the background.

I will always find the magic

and the beauty

and the wonder

in every moment

for even when I am lost

I know all I have to do is simply look up

and hang my starlight

and paint my sky

when the clock chimes dusk.

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This entry was posted in Lessons, Personal, Poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

10 Responses to When the Clock Chimes Dusk

  1. Brad Osborne says:

    The real magic here is your talent with the written word. Beautifully expressed, my friend!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. parkermccoy says:

    I love it! Keep hanging that starlight!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. utahan15 says:

    third stone from the sun
    arent we all everyone yet no one too?
    oh oh

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Be grateful that you can still retain much of the innocence of childhood. Many have had it stripped away from them, their paintbrushes taken away and broken when they were far too young to fight. And happy birthday to a woman young at heart and old of soul.

    Liked by 1 person

    • kristianw84 says:

      I do realize how lucky I am that I had a childhood that wasn’t stripped from me. I didn’t come out completely unscathed (I don’t think any of us do), but I do recognize that some children had to grow up way too fast. It makes me sad. I am very grateful that I never lost my appreciation for childlike things. Thank you, my friend! You have seen through to my young heart and old soul quicker than most. Thank you for actually listening!

      Like

  5. Jeff says:

    Once again, a beautiful poem. There was a time, earlier in my life, when I lost that magic for a bit. Thank God I got it back. I find it easy to identify with Dylan’s “Back Pages.” “I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now.” Thank you, my friend.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. jonicaggiano says:

    This is lovely. ❤️

    Liked by 1 person

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