Beyond the hat and the rabbit

Drawn to you

like moth

to raging flame.

Like mist

to mountain top.

Like cold hands

to pockets.

You,

are the flying

south for winter,

the welcome home

after the long drive.

You are the waving wand

and the yet spoken spell

I have been preparing

to pronounce.

Drawn to you

like magicians

to handkerchiefs.

You are the magic

that was in front

of my eyes all along,

hidden in the sleeves

waiting to pounce.

And as the trick goes,

you are the multicoloured

stream of miracle

that never stops

giving.