spark

We Are the Music-Makers We are the music-makers, And we are the dreamers of dreams, Wandering by lone sea-breakers, And sitting by desolate streams. World-losers and world-forsakers, Upon whom the pale moon gleams; Yet we are the movers and shakers, Of the world forever, it seems. With wonderful deathless ditties We build up the world's great cities, And out of a fabulous story We fashion an empire's glory:  One man with a dream, at pleasure, Shall go forth and conquer a crown; And three with a new song's measure Can trample an empire down. We, in the ages lying In the buried past of the earth, Built Nineveh with our sighing, And Babel itself with our mirth; And o'erthrew them with prophesying To the old of the new world's worth; For each age is a dream that is dying, Or one that is coming to birth. -- Arthur William Edgar O'Shaughnessy

Everyday magic, Joe called it. The transformation of base matter into the stuff of dreams. Layman's alchemy. * Travel far enough, Joe used to say, and all rules are suspended. Now Jay began to understand what he meant. Truth, loyalty, identity. The things which bind us to the places and faces of home no longer applied. He could be anyone. Going anywhere. * Just you remember, it's not what things look like that matters. It's what's inside . The art of it. -- Joanne Harris, Blackberry Wine