#forgottenmagic

There was once a special kind of magic. It had lived in the hush of pine forests, in old languages of brooks and stone. In the lesson of snowflakes, In gods that no one speaks of anymore. It lingers in the old hearts, The ones that remember. Do you remember? Do you know the moon by her faces? Can you read the storms mood in the breeze? Can you feel the luck in found feathers, Can you hear the comfort in the crackling fire? It always knows your name. The old paths disappeared beneath pavement. The messages in stars dimmed by city lights. Children were told that the whispers of wind were merely forest sounds, that ravens only birds, that life was something to outgrow. so the magic did what forgotten things do. it slipped quietly into the shadows, nesting in its places, waiting to be remembered. Do you? Remember? Sometimes, if you wander far enough, you feel it. Perhaps you aren’t lost. it is always waiting, for you to remember. Do you remember? Will you answer? “I’m here. I remember you.” - Forgotten Magic by Sav Leigh