To the miracle party,
Dark clouds, cirrus clouds,
Whispy clouds, cumulous clouds
and clouds unnamed
are coming and a ladybug just
folded her spotted orange
wings and sits on my arm;
A wasp just zipped in;
The four winds promise
A brief appearance, crawly
Worms asked not to be
Stepped on when the
Dancing bears arrive without
Their keepers, and I have
promised each a jar of
honey; the lonely ghost
from the basement long
in search of a mate will be
here and looking; intricate
patterns of frost have promised
to fill our windows; a parade of
Hummingbirds flashing
iridescent will hum on by;
I will cut a rope in two
and restore it, and if that
is not enough, watch
shiny silver dollars
slip through my pocket
handkerchief leaving no
mark; a parrot will recite
the periodic table and
little dog will sit and roll
over after I utter two words;
the air conditioning promises
to pull all the heat from the air,
the roof has promised not to
fall, and the solstice sun will
shine in that window at sunrise
(I hope you are still here
at the party) to kiss with
Its light the collected works
Of Shakespeare on my
bookshelf. With that I will
open the bard to his play
Hamlet, and recite the famous
soliloquy as it should read,
To be or not to be of course
I want to be to fall in and
out of love with what I see.
touch and hear and smell
and dream that is the
miracle way it’s supposed
to be and often yes it is.
.
Charles Taylor
Words and picture
.