Single wafting flakes, floating, swaying, dancing their way to the ground. In a town not used to this, but nevertheless experiencing the magic that is blanketing the terrain, the air, the very souls of all who partake of the crisp, clean beauty of it all.
Many try to wish it away, make a fleeting prediction, that it can not, will not, it must not last, they say in breathless billows as they trudge down soft cottony roads, abandoning their civility along with their cars.
Never mind that Christmas is coming, that this is what everyone has been dreaming, wishing, hoping, and yes even praying for. That the magic of the mystery, the words uttered, the wishes granted, that the spirit gives and the hope revives, with every floating disc that piles high atop the next.
It's the magic of the mystery, the spirit in us all that gave us the perfect conditions to create the heaven and hell that each of us prayed for so hard, this one Christmas season, after that particular day in November that we, as a people, finally and uncharacteristically, took up the true spirit of Jesus' teachings and took one small step for America, but one giant step for humankind.
The magic of the mystery, of the washing clean of a country, and its people, of the renewal of hope and love, the faith and pride in a nation's ability to lift itself from the ashes of dispair, and wash ourselves clean in each one of these little prisms of hope and love, sent to blanket us, by the Great Mystery above.
This is the magic of the mystery, that we roll into balls to throw at our best friend, or show our children how to make an angel in the powdery softness for the first time, or as a lover move into a doorway to avoid the flakes on our hair to look up and find mistletoe hanging above us there, while our alert lover steels a quick kiss.
This is the magic of the mystery, the mystery of wishes granted, hopes fulfilled, and dreams moved towards fruition. This is the magic of the mystery that floats down from heaven to earth with soft wafting ease, or when the urgency is felt with intense force and purpose. Only the Great Mystery knows what it needed and when and how to provide it.
Look out the window, see it there, making light out of darkness, feeling the cool on your tongue, and the happiness to man and beast that is bestowed, when the magic of the mystery falls from heaven, gracing us all with love, light, truth, purification, and peace.
This is the true purpose of the magic of the mystery, allow yourself to see the point, in this hectic world, that the magic brings, as if falls from heaven to cover us in a warm wafting blanket of light, love, and peace.
©2008 Lloydene Fay Hill