The Meeting Place

Where will we meet again? In snow, when the villages Are buried in a whiteness That only a polar bear, Rolling in the fray of a midnight blizzard Could match? Or... Rendezvous in mid summer After the virus Is decreased to a Low hum And only a handful of humanity will Lie on hospital beds Listening to the bees buzz as loud as miniature Helicopters singing a one note song of Hope, Outside the open windows? Well, perhaps we should meet in autumn When the maple trees that adorn the street Flare up and out The leaves that shimmer like gold are Oracles in themselves As they receive the epiphany, Instructions as to their time of seasonal Brilliance Until they too are weighed down by the thin Paw if winter. And yet, There’s always next year We can simply cycle back to another springtime A new dawn when parks and boardwalks will call Call us back, Back to the time of misty wet light from The Gods, When we could still walk together, Will you lead the way? No, you said.... Let’s meet on the edge of all of it, That shiny razor sharp place, The grand confluence Of mind matter spirit Wrapped in a finale of today. In the dwindling sunlight of approaching dusk.