Atticus, Blue Magic, and the Poetry of “Cantrips”

November 25, 2025

Magic: The Gathering carries within its cards a romance all its own. Not necessarily the candlelit romance of stories and sonnets, but the quieter kind: the mystery, excitement, and remoteness from everyday life.

Nowhere in Magic is that feeling stronger than in the smallest spells of all: Cantrips. These tiny (mostly)one-mana instants don’t summon monsters. They don’t help you reshape entire battlefields. Hell, they don’t even shout.

They whisper. And sometimes…that whisper is the most romantic sound in the world.

Cantrips can pull us from the darkness of a failed game. They can be the difference between death and board wipe, they are brief, fleeting moments when everything can change.

Pause: Do I acknowledge that some of the cantrips listed are technically “impulse draws”‘? Yes. Do I care? No. :Unpause

You pay a single blue mana.

You see a single card.

A quick breath, a soft tap, a passing moment. The kiss at the end of the night that either invites you in for more, or a soft goodbye.

Mechanically, these cards are simple to understand, very surface level. Emotionally, however… they become intimate. The table vanishes and the pod grows quiet around you as you pause time. They’re the quiet kind of magic—like pausing to watch light bend through glass.

The short-form poet Atticus writes in the same spirit: small lines, big feelings. Short pieces that feel like they were whispered to you and you alone. All of the poems quoted in this piece are written by Atticus.

Don’t worry–
You see,

To some you are

magic

A cantrip is just like that. You don’t cast it to change the world. You cast it to see what the world might become. Just like the work of Atticus, these cantrips demonstrate the beauty in small moments.

Romance in Blue

Blue magic has always been about curiosity. Seeking the forbidden kami knowledge. Peering just a little further than you’re “supposed” to.

Cantrips let you glimpse the library—never fully, never clearly, but always enough to feel possibility stretch out in front of you.

“Ponder” and “Preordain” show you three little visions.

“Opt” asks you to choose.

“Consider” invites you to reflect.

These spells don’t give you power, but they do give you perspective.

And perspective—that moment where everything could still change—that’s romantic as hell.

Some moments

like some people

are not meant

to be fully understood

so for now

it’s best

we just call them miracles.

A Stolen Glance

One of the main reasons I adore their writing is that Atticus writes in the language of almost-nothing. Lines that feel like fragments of dreams, or flashes of memory you’re not sure were real. A stolen glance.

There is all sorts of magic beaming in your bones

And that is why I think their tone matches blue cantrips so perfectly. Think about Ponder…

A mage afloat in thought. Three futures hovering before her. Yet none are quite tangible. A cantrip doesn’t make the choice, it simply illuminates the moment before the choice.

Or Opt…

The entire spell can be distilled into one question:

Do you want this? Or rather, do you want this now?

She was no one

To me

On a train in may

And everyone

To me

Under the stars in June.

Blue cantrips are the love notes from the top of your deck. Not confessions or stories, just intimate moments of clarity amidst the chaos. They are those quiet moments between topics, the silence when minds are tested and hearts race in anticipation.

Soft Goodbyes on Quiet Tides

Blue magic’s romance isn’t fiery. It’s not reckless. It’s the romance of slow breathing, open pages, midnight thinking, quiet tides.

Romance requires distance—not coldness, but space.

And Blue magic is full of space. Space to think and to imagine. Space needed to plan the shape of your next few turns.

Cantrips are tiny spells that simply expand that room for possibility.

These spells don’t mark action, they mark anticipation.

The moment where anything could still happen.

In all the wild world,

There is no more desperate creature

Than a human being

On the verge of losing love.

Let’s look at why some of these spells feel so emotionally charged.

Ponder — the romance of possibility.

Three paths open.

You choose which one becomes real.

Opt — the romance of choosing.

One decision.

A single moment of clarity.

Consider — the romance of reflection.

Looking inward, sifting memory and meaning.

Brainstorm — the romance of inner storms.

Thoughts crackling like lightning behind your ribs.

Portent — the romance of slow revelation.

Patience as a form of magic.

Each of these cantrips holds the same emotional truth:

Insight is intimate.

Knowledge is alluring.

A glimpse can change everything.

Every Magic player knows that specific feeling—the way a cantrip, cast almost idly, suddenly shifts the tone of the entire game. Just a little. Just enough.

Atticus put this exact shift into a love poem:

“I don’t believe in magic,”

the young boy said,

and the old man smiled,

“You will, when you see her.”

A cantrip is the softest kind of spell. The kind that taps you on the shoulder and quietly rearranges the rest of your turn. Maybe even the rest of the game, the same way that a brief glance across the room can change your future.

It’s romance for one blue.

Come in for a Nightcap?

Intimacy in Magic, like in life, isn’t found in the grand displays or mythic rarity.

It’s found in the small moments—in the subtle breaths, stolen glances, delicate choices, and fearless revelations.

Cantrips understand this perfectly. They’re the heart of Blue magic: tiny spells that whisper big truths.

And they remind us that sometimes, the most romantic things in Magic, and in life, are the smallest spells that change everything that comes after.

She was that

wild thing I loved

my dark between the stars.

If you enjoyed Atticus’ work as much as I do, you can find more of their work here.