People who say
that magic does not exist
haven’t seen
the love of their life
walking towards them
from across the park,
simply glowing from the
beautiful spark of who they are.
They haven’t seen her,
weaving wonder into
the every day moments
so that even if there isn’t
“supposed” to be glitter
or rainbows, or stars,
she is tending to a garden
that is growing flowers in
every single
shade of the heart.
And I don’t believe that
magic is always visible,
especially right from the
start, but then
once you see her, you can’t stop
noticing that she is
part of everything you do,
everywhere you go.
Unexpected yet capable
of inspiring the most delicate
feelings of awe.

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