Magic is always an inspiration. Itself the power of magic has a mystery, and we are being offered a magic spell. The thirst of magic is exposed, the birth of magic has taken place. It feels like another person, like a magical feeling anyway. Who is magical more than the other? Is what you say also magical? And why do magicians hide their magic so magnificently? Please, why do they love the magic so strongly?
I like the simple words being spoken, and I love it as much as magic. This poem looks like magic, but is it? Maybe the hiding of magic is even taking place. The understanding of magical experiences can be unearthed here. But a poem is good for this purpose: for unearthing a secret or two.