September 4, 2015 § 2 Comments

“Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.” – Arthur C Clarke’s third law.

We spent the weekend in a cabin four dirt trails off the everyday. At night we cracked open beers and harmonized to loud electronic dance music and jazz. At one point my gaze drifted a little upward and I realized we were completely outside the belly of Nashville light pollution. The sky danced with playful glitter. In a moment of personal triumph I was reminded why I loved the night sky so much I had pledged to study the science that governs it. Amidst the thumping music in a moment of serenity I found a sliver of purpose again.

your face coaxing
a million million miles stories
shared once a thousand times
where is your magic
where is your marvel
atop a ghostly green
in splendor bright
proclaims now your love
into a canopy of dreams.

The night sky in Nashville is purple smeared, bruised, unglamorous. I forget there is magic out there still.



§ 2 Responses to magic

  • dreamer2205 says:

    Whose blog post is this?!


  • josieroth says:


    I love that you used a personal experience as a way to express and appreciate your own scholastic passions. Being able to see the night sky through your eyes was a wonderful experience. Everyone views the world in a different way, and it is through these differing interpretations that we begin to understand each other; based on your poem, I feel as though I understand your perspective.

    The tie-in between the “stories/ shared once a thousand times” and the starry scene struck quite a chord with me. Whether or not it was your intent (but, I suppose, the intent of poetry is to draw out the reactions of others; I digress), I thought of worlds beyond ours that we may never be able to see but that do exist. I thought that even if life as we know it didn’t inhabit these places, they still move and change, forming different versions of themselves with the flow of time, creating “stories” that manifest themselves in these beautiful twinkling lights. And for allowing me to imagine that, I thank you.

    –Josie Roth


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