The world has other holes to fall through.
Not all wonder
wears a waistcoat.

Some days,
I’d feel my fingers twitch
toward the cracks in the pavement,
see a shimmer
in the corner of a mirror,
or find my reflection
smiling before I did.

I learned to wander
without leaving,
to tilt my head at logic
and laugh in riddles
no one taught me.

I became my own curious thing—
not chasing the white rabbit,
but wearing my strangeness
like silk,
soft and deliberate.

And maybe, one day,
some else
will see me pass by—
a flash of something
just beyond the hedge—
and wonder
if they should follow.

    By: Emily  A. Rice

Perception is a choice

To see something not for what it is

But what it could become

A choice to add magic to the normal

To give a soul to the soulless

Then

The streetlights become fairies

The stars become dancers

And the night sky their stage

The sun becomes diamond dust

As rays scatter over the ocean

And you

You make your own light

And all those around you will see you shine

Perception is a choice

And I choose to see the magic

By Emily A. Rice

The world says I am an adult

I am

An adult who still sleeps with a teddy bear

Because it makes me feel safe when I close my eyes and sleep

I am

An adult who will still take vitamins in the form of gummies

Because they taste better 

I am

An adult who believes in the tooth fairy

Because life is better with a little bit of magic

I am an adult

But

An adult who will not forsake the recognition of comfort found in the small acts of childhood

By Emily A. Rice