Life is a Magic Show

March 26, 2018 No comments exist

‘The world is full of trickery,’ Max Ehrmann wrote. Not only is it full of it, it is the essence of its trick. Life is a magic show. I’ve seen the curtain open and been blinded by the beauty of its glitter. I’ve heard the rantings, ravings, cravings of ‘The show must go on!’ But, truly, I care for it no more. BE GONE!

Rabbits are pulled out of hats all over the land. They jump, tumble, rumble in the darkest hour while the owls give a hoot about their late night dinner. Frolicking ended in nightmare’s scheme. After all the hype of the party scenes, the corporate greed, the status quo of survival of the fittest, I flick my magic wand and light the fire to burn my long song, karma. I’m weary of life’s fiasco, its bucket lists, and bull’s-eye miss. I’d rather simply get a grip. But it seems I must wait till the candle’s blown on every cake and each toy has its celebrate. Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, pat on the back, Oh, how I’d like to get back to basics.

Throw down my clown that just can’t get enough of the world’s distractions; the manuevering and manipulation of dreams to get ahead of the guy I’m dreaming next to me. The girl in my show is still on display…how long can one play this preschool game?  I’m done with fighting a fabricated war. Let’s join forces, together, neck and neck, and clear the heck out of here. Open the curtain behind this false curtain!

Behind the frock of this imagery lies truth, I see. It’s not steeped in lies and deception. Its only disguise is the scene created by its portrayal, this reflection, of my divine Self. My mirror. Fraught with mock, I am living this life believing its reality, its magic convincing me; that which I cannot see does not exist. Ah! the magician’s trick! layered thick in illusion. Yet, my lucky Ace, is staring me in the face. The Queen of Hearts, she waits there. When I start to shred the veil, that coloured view of the world, I can indeed make it disappear. Abracadabra!

I want to pause this distraction; my repulsions and attractions, stop the magician; the one who fools and pulls the rug from under me. The tablecloth from where I dine, I daily find misplaced. However disgraced, by my desire to be entertained, I’ve had enough of this mundane game. However glamourous, I’ve seen its fluff! The bird within the cage. I wish to stop the magic trick. To dismantle its gloat piece by piece until I see the peace that lies awake behind its wall. Fall! Upon an empty stage. The show be over! The white dove flies home.

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