Conjugating Our Purpose

Out walking this morning
The sun shows me where to step
When to stop
And why we remember fears
And how forgotten feelings fall
From conscious thought like careless cat tails
Caught in the threat of a dog’s brisk bark
 Sending invisible spores throughout
This sleepy community of trails, trucks, t-bills
And tots – Settling on some
And to others not yet named
They carry a visceral purpose
Of growth, sustenance and redemption

Somewhere up the street
A door opens without fanfare
As the neighborhood’s newest Magellan
Ventures forth on shaky legs in search of news
Numbers, results, Calvin & Hobbs
Sheathed in pink plastic…Something Woody
Buzz envelopes the seeker
“Roger that, Houston!”
Who then veers right and dips
Down to pick up his prize
Although Papa may rue what he finds
Inside he beams from the threshold
One more box into which a check may be placed
One more mission accomplished
One more launch charted and completed
Without a hitch
A seamless blend
Of beginningless past
Endless future
And perfect past


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