You’ve seen me
In the thousand faces you passed today
Even tho’ I was trying my best to hide
In muscled shirt
Or tight red dress
The honking horns
We’re meant to distract you from looking too close
Still, you heard it as music
And smiled
As we walked on
The wind that came around the corner
Was supposed to push you away from me
Yet we collided and your Latte spilled
On the path
And still, you smiled
We sit at the sunroom table in our 90’s
Finished Working on that huge picture puzzle
And finding one piece in the middle is missing
Where is it?
Did it drop on the floor?
Is this a joke;
The kindly giver putting that piece
In his front shirt pocket?
Still, looking at the overall picture
I can imagine the piece that goes there.
Maybe that is the missing piece
Found in my own front shirt pocket
Like a magic trick
Where the card you chose is the card you have.
But don’t question the magician.
He is there to entertain you.
Music is a guardian Angel
A mother’s voice before sleep
A lullaby that captains us
As we sink in the deep
She flies through air
Unseen
From places near and far
She even will come visit me
As I drive in my car
She shouts about injustice
She tells me of my blues
And she is there to waken me
When I’ve had too much booze
And at my ceremony
I’m sure you’ll find her there
Consoling all those gathered
And lifting up the air.
And I’ve heard that in heaven
They don’t speak but sing
The new celestial choir
That we hear when it is Spring
Fear can drive us to Nirvana
To meet its family there
A bevy of confusion
Of noise and rancor where
A sense of hesitation
And judgement all appear
Affect my self-direction
And pierces like a spear
Too long for just a ride home
Before I was brought here
In vehicles of splendor
By driver who was Fear
Still, seems that Fear departed
The family disappeared
And all the noise and rancor
Is in the rear view mirror
They were having a service at Harpers.
It’s about a block down from the community church.
The spirits flow freely there
And Honesty often erupts into a fight.
Twelve pickups and a few SUV’s
make an interesting congregation.
And each confession concludes with the listener’s exclamation of “No Shit!”.
And the man with a broken smile and dirty hands says, “Another round on me.” So the ex-football player with the white SUV knocks him off his stool until the bartender steps in and reminds them of their long friendship. Soon the shouts die down and Willie Nelson keeps playing on the juke box and two by two the patrons leave affected by the preacher’s words.
theascendingspiral 