There Be Magic Here

Like a late summer morning mist that comes with the dew, the Little Wizard glides smoothly along the low land of the room. It makes the sounds of one who is contented - of past deeds or a deed yet to come, who knows? A bubbling hum. A contented hum.

The little Wizard glances at you but also at something else, something shiny on the ground. Too many distractions. The focus wavers. The Little Wizard seems to falter in its purpose - shiny or you. You are not shiny. You are known - you are the one who is always here. But this shiny thing is new. Or is it?

The Little Wizard scans and thinks. Ah, but I've seen this before. Recognition then instant focus to something else. The rustling Wizard turns to you again and says something that could only be gibberish.

No, not gibberish, really. Gibberish is the ability to phoneticize. No, this is a trill mixed with a hum mixed with a gurgling. The Little Wizard presses on with her incantation. It takes awhile to formulate the combination of need, of thought and of sound. Finally, the Little Wizard raises her hands like a maestro bringing the orchestra to attention. What follows is the power of a magician to command, perhaps beckon, the elements about to the Will of the Wizard.

But wee Wizards sometimes fail in the quest to put definition to Will. Purpose to plan. While their majesty is great, their function is young. This Little Wizard has learned that patience and practise will eventually win the day. Her power is present but the formula's escape her in the mist of newness and distraction. The Little Wizard moves away to new conquests, new sights, new awes with a simple lesson left for her subjects: All Great Things Do Not Always Start Out Great. It Takes Practice, Patience and a Beginning.

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