Poem 6/23/19

What would you say if I told you that we all started from a mistake

At the end of a perilous fight?

Would you still trust me, if I told you I was there

When it all went down?

Would you doubt everything you believe in when

I showed you how the blue skies used to be red?

I sit alone in a movie theater thinking about it

And the couple in front of me hugs

To think, before, they may not have gotten along but do now

Only out of the convenience of the unknown

And the screen in front of me is like that of a dream

In which God shares the secret

That what was once good was bad

And bad was good

And after the movie I stand on the corner waiting for the bus

And ash from a cigarette gets in my eye

And dries it out

And I have an idea for a poem- to write about

How what once went from left to right

Now goes from up to down

And the bus pulls up and I see water dripping from under

And it reminds me of a baby being safe from harm

Because of a father that holds her in his lap

And I go home and look at baby pictures

And see the spring in my eyes while I sit on my Dad’s knee

While he holds my sister up to a cake with a lit candle

And it makes me wonder

Where the conception, the acknowledgement, the realization,

Of being sprung comes from

Does it come after a nap?  After a life-changing dream?

After a fight?  After a rain fall?

I think being sprung is defined by the hiding of an eye

The feeling that you are safe

Even when evil plays out right in front of you

Where others may not have survived

And I play solitaire on my computer and think of how

I am just as sprung, just in a different way

Because the magic never dies

It just recycles

itself