|So suddenly living // The view from my office window|
Sunlight on fuchsia leaves
me in a parked KIA channeling Confucius,
hands symmetrically balanced
on each side of all things,
grasping a universe of silence
and spinning geometry
slamming atoms together
so microscopically cosmic.
There you are. Here are we,
speechless and slow
with all weights placed
Here is me and a face
of smiling wrinkles dancing down the path,
a chorus of unbridled laughter trailing after,
an acoustic guitar playing Pomp and Circumstance
in a newer style with all the proper resolutions.
Sunlight on fuchsia and flesh
and a narrow silver band of symbolism
leaves me contemplating catechisms
open-ended as cells knit and mend
without my needing to be a part in it.
Passively integral, this role,
as very directly we roll
towards a fate as yet opaque.
Here are we and there somewhere is you
underneath the warmth of sunlight
on the fuchsia of my light spring clothes
with hands wrapped around the belly you inhabit
as the willow tree next to me
buds and greens,
so suddenly living.