Morning Magic by Stephen Thompson

Morning Magic

by Stephen Thompson

Magic heard the cry as it was painting the morning sky. Swiftly it swooped to the newborns bed and gently peered into its head. The valleys and crags of grey matter were a playground of fast-moving light. What a human would see doesn't matter; for Magic the patterns were bright . It waited but a second observing then held out a brush of light. Colourful words of power it painted across the drab landscape. Then Magic went back to painting the sky and introducing the beauty of night. The fast moving lights got stronger sometimes and jumped to run on the words and from these jumps mankind created music, words, and the arts. Next time some writing or art or music awakens a chord in your soul tip your hat to the possibilities written by magic on a baby's awakening brain.

“The universe is full of magical things patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper.”