“The syntactical nature of reality, the real secret of magic, is that the world is made of words. And if you know the words the world is made of, you can make of it whatever you wish” — Terence McKenna
In the fantasy books of childhood
magic was all about the names
of things, people, elements.
When I stopped believing,
Alexander Supertramp still
spoke to me, calling each
by its true name,
dying in his search
due to mistaken identity.
Few are brave enough
to go into the wild
of their own construction.
We must all perish
in those uncharted
places of soul,
but some find their magic bus
left tidy by fellow travellers.
This is the goal of life;
to come to a reckoning
with what is,
live in that moment
and extend it to
find eternity in an hour;
just enough time to write
the words of the world
as we find them:
“Happiness only real when shared” — Christopher McCandless
The real magic is that
words are the spells which
we use to share our world,
momentary bridges to more than me.
The world is not really made of words,
but find the right ones and
you can share your version.
That is a magic worth knowing.