Parking Lot Epiphany
Dreary, muted Sunday,
wind-blown spaces
snowy and empty:
Boxing day, 8:40 a.m.,
at the local big box store:
unexpectedly, outside the car window:
dull white, grey gulls fly,
disappear --- chameleon-like ---
against intractable, dull white, grey clouds:
hushed, natural intimations of the infinitely bigger picture;
a sudden, bourgeoning sense of the thoroughgoing mystery,
the "way out of the wilderness":
intrigued the human heart beats again roused.
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