It's hard not to look outside yourself for the reasons when you experience setbacks or outright failures. It's also dangerous to believe that luck is for some and not for others, and that changing yourself does NOT change the world around you. And sometimes poems help more than you know.
'd sing a serenade to a silver moon But something's got my tongue and I don't think it's the cat
I used to think it was probably a man Who had come in the night and stayed on But only in my mind A game I played Hoping for the sympathetic magic Of life imitating wishes
Cause and effect eschews my world view Like a rocket at escape velocity Orbiting, I see the oceans and masses of land And if I zoom in from my lofty eyrie, I might catch a glimpse of my own brown head Or at least the tarred roof of the building In which I've gone to ground
When does this thing turn around This darkness that shows itself at moments of greatest hope That waits around the corner of every alley Like a cut-purse If to move forward was my currency If to believe in the fulfillment of potential was as good as gold In this uncertain world
I need the argent light of that moon To light the back corners of my mind To shine into the dark reaches of space And lead my expectations back to earth Not to dash them to the ground at terminal velocity Burned and blackened from re-entry But unite them at last With me
For all my actions For all the actions of the world There is a response This is cause and effect If I get slapped down more than I like Maybe it's not just bad luck But a byproduct of the fact I try at all
I have tried to be an alchemist A sorceress A witch But the causes that lie within my grasp to initiate Have failed to register in my sweeping gaze Have been too small to show themselves from space Like the single motion that initiates an avalanche Or deeply hidden Like the submarine tremor That launches a tsunami
And for this My mind is clouded My silver moon is shrouded Only its nimbus shimmers in the haze far above And I see no stars at all
Remember the butterfly in Tokyo I must sing And more important Remember the strength of my own two hands Not imbued with magical power But with sinew and muscle and will I'll compose a serenade to my own expectation To join me at this moment in time And follow this road with good intent With firm conviction With love and with passion Until I learn what effect this cause has wrought
Young Maggie Stuart begins to have strange dreams, then develops what seem to be superhuman perception. Suddenly, she is thrown into the middle of an age-old battle between ancient foes. Will she stay a pawn, or can she become a force to be reckoned with herself? And just how does her teacher Mr. Hunt fit into the picture: as an ally, or her worst enemy of all?
