So long, Mister Leonard

“It is no surprise
that danger and suffering surround us.
What astonishes is the singing.”

Jack Gilbert “Horses at Midnight Without a Moon”

What will astonish you first is the singing,

the singing – no less than a Godsend, a seed,

a remedy or a boat,

a flood of crossings, a sacrifice

first hand

like a dusty garbage-bin:

an emptiness so hollow

the very fabric of it –

dead to the world.

I guess this is what is called

being blissfully lost.

Like when the morning rises

and still sleepy,

we feel the tinge of joy

at the possibilities;

our nightly quarters receding

into the spaces

where memories sleep,

the unrequited prayers,

sedated for a while.

The moment,

the here,

the now.