Eclipse

[bruorton]

I didn't come out here to stare into the sun,
to try to find the right filter to make sense
of heavenly miracles. I wander through the crowd,
more comfortable (if I am honest) in smaller
settings, simply hoping to find a friend or two
with whom to share a moment standing
companionably outside on such a lovely day.
To lead them, perhaps, to one corner of the green,
neglected in the shade, and admire together
the flickering spaces between the leaves
that have turned all the ground around us
to a carpet of swaying crescents. We
look down at this mosaic spread across
the sidewalk and the lawn, while behind us
the multitude gazes up.

I do not know how to love this world
nearly how I should, but I know at least
that what I love is here, to learn. After the
Ascension, as the disciples stood in shock,
faces upturned, suddenly abandoned, we
are told two figures in white robes came
among them. "Why do you stand about here,
staring into heaven?" they asked. They might
as well have said directly, don't you know how
much there is to do? There are fields to work
in: hay fields, occupational fields. There are so
many kind words needed, so many hands
unheld. And there is so much to learn to love:
strange orbits of the moon, dancing shadows
on the earth, each other, ourselves.