I Wish You Were



If the universe has ever wished upon its internal stars, the evidence lies in the trees –

dandelions to the earth’s child-like breath of wind.


When sunlight takes a nap on the leaves, the leaves become a pedestal for simplistic purity.


The branches explode in diamonds, fireworks on a lazy afternoon, and I’m reminded that places are dedicated to their holdings, just as everything has its place.


What is it about here and now that has found here and now?


The evening will let its sun play hide and seek alone, while it prepares the moon

to light the stage for Act 2 of our perpetual theatre production.


In my own Shakespearian interpretation, “How do I understand thee? Let me count the ways.”


Each of us has top billing in our life story. If I’m here to act out a script, I must have memorized my dialogue and reactions in some twist of yesterday’s foresight.


When a situation arises that renders me powerless, have my co-stars forgotten their lines, or have they paused for a re-write? Have I been left out of the script?


I cannot answer with confidence.


However, what remains is this pull-down screen behind me,

my grand theatre with pre-set moods.


And while they battle it out, I can choose a mannerism for the day that contradicts both.


There have been breathtaking skies of blue overlooking a battlefield.


It seems as though we are naturally one with the universe; yet, we’ve distanced ourselves enough to proclaim our importance and engage in a never-ending struggle for attention…that being our total control of what we were never responsible for.

                                                                                                                     ©Gary Sweeney






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