Magic Wand

When I was young I had a magic wand. I had fashioned it out of sticks, rope, and some shimmery rocks I found in the neighbor's backyard. I convinced myself it could make anything happen. I just had to swirl it around in the air while invoking the perfect words in perfect rhythm. That was the hard part – choosing the just right words. It had to feel like a revelation. It had to feel like something between a spell and a poem. I still find myself wanting to do this whenever I really hope something happens ... even though the wand is long gone.