It’s Strange
“It’s strange, to me airplanes were always heavy metal objects that flew through the sky. Magic. Now, you’re saying that airplanes are engines, wings, force, gravity, rules, and laws. Science.”
“Is that a problem?”
“I think it is. I prefer the former to the latter.”
“And what if I told you they were the same?”
“How so?”
“Magic is simply undiscovered science, and science is merely discovered magic.”
I’m skeptical.
“Did you come up with that?”
“No, it’s a quote.”
“Who said it? A scientist?”
“No. A poet.”
I’m far less skeptical.
I imagine scientists writing verse and poets conducting experiments.
I think about up causing down and magic being science.
I ponder perspective.
He sees buildings, strangers, and science.
I see stories, books, and magic.
Combining what we each see gives us more.
I wonder if this is what we’re looking for, more.
We live what we perceive.
The world’s a simple place, but people complicate it.
It’s filled with buildings and stories, strangers and lovers, ups and downs, and science and magic.
A lot of things and very few things.
Together, we’re trying to make the most of them.
I wonder if this is us starting to understand our story.
Or us getting lost in it.
