If Fairies Live Here...

It is sometimes said, fairies walk between worlds...where the veil between the living earth and the Otherworld is as thin as spider silk in the morning light...

If fairies live here,
you would know by the way the earth breathes...
how the moss grows thick 
along the roots of ancient trees,
and how the clovers lift their green lanterns
toward the sky...

Fairies...
make nature wild by accident...
Ferns unfurl
like secret scrolls of magic.
Rivers curve
as if guided by unseen hands,
and fallen acorns don't simply sleep in soil...
they dream themselves upward...
into the wind and sky.

Because transformation...
is the language of the fairies.

They know the quiet alchemy 
of rain becoming blossom,
and winter...
unlocking spring.

They wait...
for someone bold enough to listen closely...
before revealing the ancient magic doors,
beneath every hill,
and the sleeping stories waiting to change,
beneath every stone.

So, step lightly among the shamrocks...
for the greenworld is not only growing...
it's listening.

And somewhere just beyond sight,
in the soft border between this world
and the shining one beside it...

The fairies are tending the wild magic...
smiling, perhaps,
to see who lingers long enough 
to notice.

So, tell me...
Do you think fairies live here?