Real Magic

A poem for Christmas
by Cam Asher Bond

What’s there to do under a cold dark moon?
Once more my stars are all gone too soon.
Damnit I thought, maybe winter never ends.
It always has, but will this break the trend?
Kick on down the road, all drunken and swagger’d.
Calling for love, but then love never answered.
With frost on my face, and a whiskey-laced tongue.
I’m going nowhere, because that’s where I’m from.
I can’t feel a thing now, it’s too crackling cold.
Both my skin and my bones, I fear have grown old.
No family, no friends, no warmth from a lover.
I might just stop wondering if we’ll find one another.
Now my breath has grown thin, my body is spent.
In some fit of exhaustion, I fall to cement.
The road, and now I, are all covered in snow.
Perhaps this is the night, I won’t make it home.
But then lifting my eyes, what’s this that I see?
A beautiful family, lighting a tree.
A young gal is lifted, by her papa’s long arms.
To top the great fir with a glistening star.
And now they take hands, with neighbors abound.
To sing hymns of salvation, all gathered around.
Somehow the cold seemed to just melt away.
As if the warmth of a fire, was carried as they sang.
Jolly and eager, all wrapped up in cheer.
Their smiles were reaching from each bundled ear.
The dark was lit up by a light, hopeful hue.
The whole scene seemed to promise that good times were due.
So, though tired and worn, I lifted myself.
I saw in some way, a new hand had been dealt.
I reached for the circle, and it reached for me.
And we joined in a chorus, ’round the towering tree.
My heart became lively, my face felt a thaw.
We swayed to and fro, my eyes wide with awe.
However hopeless I’d been made to feel.
Was washed away, when I knew magic is real.
It’s made real by the hands that help one another.
It’s made real by the love of a comforting mother.
It’s made real by every door that we hold.
And by each stranger, we help shelter from cold.
Its made real when we smile at each passerby.
So that they too may smile, and look to the sky.
The magic’s made real when we believe in the good.
And think of, as family, each neighborhood.
No matter how different we think or we feel.
We all share that magic, when we make it real.
Because it’s never as strong, when we think just of our own.
But when we think of eachother, and the magic has grown.
It’s in our humanity that we find it here.
That the magic is real, and we hold it dear.
So let’s share in this feeling, with gusto and zeal.
And together, this holiday, let’s all make it real.

A very merry Christmas and Happy New Year from TTAG!