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Meet Me At the Square
Meet me at the square That is what I continue to hear Meet me at the square before the close of the year I know that your calendar is full But create an extra page for me So that we can meet face to face and discuss my destiny I want to look into your beautiful eyes And understand your sarcastic smiles Meet me at the square and you will have nothing to fear The spirits are getting restless They are running around everywhere They have taken over the cats I can hear them screaming far and near I have been wandering around all night Putting up a terrible fight I just couldn’t fall asleep It’s as if I had something important to complete I went through the door a little after five To breathe fresh air and mingle with the morning tide The streets were bare and empty The guard at the gate was fast asleep And everything was quiet in the street Day light was floating in the air but I had nothing significant to share. I walked a block down the street and sat on a column At the cross road to relax my cumbersome soul I felt like someone was in control of me and controlling everything I do I have traveled thousands of miles to detach myself from everything But I still find myself at the center of everything I sat at the square for a while viewing the early morning traffic passing by Vendors hurrying on scooters and motorbikes with produce tied to the back While some people were just going home from their New Year’s celebrations Women latched on to the back of their men and covering their faces to conceal the early morning embarrassment I watched them spring up from all corner of the road moving in a hurry before the day break No moon was visible in the sky and the stars hid quietly under the gray clouds The red lantern hangs still on the the light post watching people rumbling by One by one they creep out of their holes gearing up for the morning show Women came out with their long brooms, sweeping the dusty and leafy streets It has been three days since the New Year appear And after three days they can sweep the pavement Without fear of losing their new year’s luck Is it tradition or superstition? Every culture has its own illusion We all can create one and send it to the heavenly one I still don’t know what to do to make me sleep The stars are not sparkling in the sky And the moon is not rolling by Its hard to fantom the other side of nature I sat at the crossroad where the four roads meet East, West, North and South positioned at my feet All I have to do is to make a choice and I will know what I am about no matter which direction I go We will all meet at the crossroad that leads to the main road I sat there in the early morning pondering this truth And examine things from the deep root I have shaken off the top soil to get a clearer picture Hundreds of lantern lined up along the street Carrying a hidden secret that is so deep Four lanterns attached to each light post Symbolizes the dead and is positioned To guide the wandering and restless spirits home It did not dawn on me until I examine them carefully I found myself at the crossroad not by coincident It is where all the spirits meet by providence To surrender their ill-will and follow the lights from the lantern to to find a sacred resting place Many things transpire at the square So meet at the square when the road is clear.
Copyright © 2024 Christine Phillips. All Rights Reserved

Book: Shattered Sighs