Meditation on Moving On

At Keystone Café, the radio plays

and words of a song from the sixties pierce my coffee-bred thoughts:

Always something there to remind me…

Trying to forget, I know this world is but a dream

a temporary mirror of the other

that place where you and I reside in eternity

mere cells within the One Great Plan

where time has no meaning

and words don’t exist

and love is a given

Yet here, amongst dog rose and lupin

she, open and pink

and he, closed and blue

we became like them – rooted in sand

surrounded by stones and their stories

drinking summer grey mists

on salt water taffy mornings

but rose petals fade and lupins shrivel

their seedpods of black

hanging like coffins

Right now

in this moment

eagle perches for the view

and fish dance

and gulls dive for the feast

and cry

this is mine

All the while

the ferry inhales and exhales passengers

like a heart-lung machine

a blood bank of journeys

a breaker of waves that crosses the synaptic sea

and, locked into terminal, transmits

holders of keys to neurons

In bursts of energy

flowing down rivers of roads

streams of pulsing potential

these elements of the greater intelligence

try to carry its message

this for the arms that yearn to hold

that for the aching walk-alone legs

and yesterday’s broken dream becomes

one Sunday transformed

A poem is born in words that don’t rhyme

as the radio plays another song:

Can’t you hear the pounding of my heartbeat,

You’re the one I love…

Holding the mirror close, all I see is my own breath

and waves that drill the shore in a tumbling roll

while the ocean remains constant

and eagle takes flight

 

Submitted to:

onesingleimpression.blogspot.com

poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/poetrypantry

sundayscribblings.blogspot.com

 

 

 

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