“Waste no faith on strange magic
to set you free from the maze.
You’ll need to calm those ripples,
if you want to see your real face.”
Thus spake the holder of the lamp,
as he drifted across the hoary shores.
How could he know my deepest thoughts;
and how could his lamp not dance to the wind?
I rushed ahead to ask him how, but all
he said was, “Magic? More ripples!”
A tender, spectacular smile,
and the surging waters froze!
With that, the holder was gone, setting
the lamp on the sands; it cast
a mysterious outline behind me.
Was that my new direction…?
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