Sunday, May 2, 2010

The Night Falls Into the Sky

Over the bridge hold flecks of light,
Connected to ground and grass,
Buildings with flashing bulbs,

Air chills,
Feet quicken,
A plane flies overhead,
Leaving whirling dust in its wake.

A dead cabbie sings in my ear,
“The embers float on the ground…”

A rotting tree,
Stretches its creaking limbs into the night,
And I look for the Cheshire Cat.
Surely he waits for me there.

At the corner I hold onto the pole,
And look up.
This man-made thing.
This God-made being.
Are the mice asleep in their stoplight?

Elders dine on French cuisine,
And a BMW drives slowly, shakily by.
Who is the man inside?

The temple is being rebuilt,
And this morning I’m asked for patience.
Like the farmer who waits for precious fruit,
I wait for healing.
And I repent,
That refreshment may come.

My balcony is warm,
Candles flicker brightly.
Lanterns shine overhead,
And the bougainvillea clings to the white embers,
And the night falls into the sky.

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