All this magic

There is just so much box packing that the human spirit can tolerate before it atrophies. Taking a very short break to reply to the dverse prompt this evening.


That look that has lasted so many years,

a flame that has flickered but always flared again,

fire-bright, deeper than desire

and the well of wishes where the moon swims;

water-borne with otter grace,

the torrent of a child’s first melancholy wail,

delicate swish-tailed fish become hefty bawling flesh;

a dream plucked from a shared vision,

two hands that reached into the tingling darkness

of a distant night and found the same star;

fields and trees, a breeze from the south,

red fox-flash and the silent setting of the sun.

All this magic fallen into my cupped hands

to tip into your keeping,

yours, mine, forever.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

62 thoughts on “All this magic”

      1. Moving. Further along the Garonne into the depths of the countryside. It will be lovely when we’re there, but getting rid of thirty years worth of accumulated junk is killing us.

      2. I’m afraid so. We’ll maybe play the dumb foreigners and ask them nicely not to pop their guns off on our land. Don’t want to cause offence, but on the other hand, I won’t have them shooting anything if I can help it.

  1. Very beautiful. Moving house is a time for reflection – you are passing through one of life’s doorways, aren’t you? From one phase to another – the move makes it very concrete. All the very best for it…I sometimes look around and dread the idea of sorting out all our junk…

    1. The sorting of junk is worse than all the rest. What’s junk and what’s useful/souvenir/heirloom? We’ve tried shedding stuff and we’ve reached the point where I’m saying, if it fits in a box, we’re keeping it. It’s quicker in the long run than agonising over it.

  2. All this magic fallen into my cupped hands to tip into your keeping…that is truly magic. I have to ask, do you all not have “no trespassing” laws in France. Here in the south, home of horrific hunters, if you put up no trespassing and no hunting allowed, they have to comply. I bet I have a hundred signs posted all around our property. And once I went out on my horse with wakzashi at my hip and crossbow hanging from the saddle horn. I came across a bunch of hunters banging away at some running deer. I let lose a quarrel at them and then pulled my sword. Those cowards run like the dickens. I haven’t seen them back in several years. Word got around. NO hunters….I wish you well in your new home. May your home be full of joy, blessings, and magic.

    1. Thanks Toni πŸ™‚ The magic is already there. We just have to look after it. Yes, in theory we could put up no hunting signs, and our nearest neighbour has said he’s going to do it, but up to now, he hasn’t. The hunters aren’t just citizens, they’re farmers and nobody likes to get on the wrong side of the agricultural community. In France you have to keep ‘vermin’ under control, and foxes are counted as vermin. If a landowner doesn’t keep his/her forx population under control, any local hunter has the right to do it for him/her. Same for wild boar. They go after them and you can’t stop them. The only rule is that they can’t pop off their guns closer than 50 meters to your house. Fun times ahead.

  3. It’s now nearly 5 years since I sold my home, went through the painful box-packing, and moved into a new chapter in my life, cupped hands full. I hope your move will prove to be as blessed as mine, Lillian. The sorting out is the hardest part!

    1. Once the stuff is there, I’ll start breathing properly again. Sorting out can take as long as it likes. We’ve done it before, but the last time was twelve years ago so we’re a bit out of practice.

  4. Romantic and magical. You’ve honeyed my breakfast, Jane, and set me up for the day! I adore the lines:
    ‘…the well of wishes where the moon swims’;
    ‘two hands that reached into the tingling darkness
    of a distant night and found the same star’;
    ‘All this magic fallen into my cupped hands
    to tip into your keeping,
    yours, mine, forever’.

  5. I’m glad you took a poetry break–and what a magical piece you produced!
    I hope I find time today to take one.

    “All this magic fallen into my cupped hands
    to tip into your keeping. . .” Lovely, Jane. Good luck with the packing!

      1. The house is a couple of miles from the (very small) town so it is possible to walk, but not carry shopping back again, or a sick cat to the vet or anything much really.

  6. Every line was magical to me, but I especially love…”two hands that reached into the tingling darkness /of a distant night and found the same star” Wow!
    Good luck with your move. πŸ™‚

    1. Thanks Michelle! Most of what we’re packing probably won’t be unpacked for ages. There’s a lot of work going to be done on the house to make it more comfortable and to comply with legal safety standards!

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