The Magic Appears

The Magic Appears

(“For the earth bears fruit by itself: first the blade, then the ear, then the full grain in the ear.” Mark 4:28)

The magic appears on grass muddied fields
where a white-faced calf prances between heifers
and cows
while the January sun melts the puddles frozen
overnight. Are myths begun as simply as this?

We do not invent the blossoms that begin
before we think about looking. We do not
assemble the apples or sculpt them into being.
We would paint them and glue them to branches,
expecting them to glow like Christmas lights year
to
year.

We can arrange our money, though. My father taught me
50 years ago.
Large bills in back, then in descending order toward the
front of your wallet, all facing the same direction.

That would have helped me today at the pot store;
I owed forty-seven dollars and thought I had enough
singles. Dug through every bill, and told the braided cashier
what I tell you now,
and she confessed she always arranged hers (except when
she didn’t…a mess.) I would shop there even if I did not
buy cannabis,
the employees laugh like they are happy to be there.

Did I mention that the magic appears, but only when we look
for it?
And no, I only had six singles and paid with 3 twenty dollar bills.

My chihuahua joins me when I make the rounds, on my lap,
paws on my arms, peering out the window. She whines when
we are almost home. Sometimes we read each other’s minds,
sometimes we puzzle over language, sometimes she looks at me
when I try to hold an entire conversation with her. Her ears
lie flat
and she wonders why I have said anything at all.

Today the magic is that there is a
today at all.