Sunlit Ambrosia
People watching, on a park bench under a ripe sun,
I sat, seemingly wasting time. My heart smiled the second hour when I saw John,
my father, in the clouds. He smiled back with arms that reached
from the past to pick the sun from the sky like a peach.
Golden light splattered,
as he bit into the fruit at high noon; with my head back
and tongue out, I tasted drops of sunlit ambrosia.
My father winked from the clouds. His eyes searched to teach
a lesson of love from father to daughter, spanning a gap in time. "God is love",
I heard on whispering wind. "Scotland". Again, he said, "Scotland". I didn't understand.
"My mom wanted to go but never did. Live, give and forgive, outlive the bad, relive the good",
like thunder from his mouth
I heard the words echo. "Time is on My Side" played
in the background on an old transistor radio as ancient
as the silent man, still like a statue, next to me. A hush fell on the park and a peace
swept over me. Men, women, spirits kept moving by for hours, yet none
were noticed as my wide eyes stared at the passing sky. I was happy.
In fact, I had never felt happier, but I knew I was running on empty,
exhaustion washed over me from the power of emotions while the sky moved north to south.
Clouds faded with daylight. Sadly, I blew a kiss goodbye "knowing the sky was feeling the same".
By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders, May 31, 2012
for Mish-Mash contest (Tracie)
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